Threads of Betrayal
by J.J. Keegan
Summary: What happened after 'The End'...? Will Buck Greene get what he deserves?


Disclaimer: Magnum PI and its characters do not belong to me. I merely borrow them from time to time for fun, not profit.

CAUTION: This story contains adult themes, violence, and strong language, and is not suitable for children under 17.

****

**Threads of Betrayal**

by

J.J. Keegan

_September, 1988_

The man had been sitting for hours, watching. No more than a shadow in the overgrowth, invisible to the casual observer, he waited for his prey. He could afford to be patient. His small sanctuary was comfortable and he knew his target would appear some time tonight. It was just like the old days; create a camouflaged hiding place in the jungle ... settle in ... wait... He had been here since long before the dappled sunlight had given way to soft, velvety black as day had yielded to night. There was no moon on this night, no light at all. No sound, save for the soft calls of the night creatures and the whisper of wind through the trees above. He savored the silence. There would be so little silence, so little solitude in the days ahead. He sighed quietly. Solitude -- he guarded it like a jealous husband. Such a precious commodity, and so scarce... _God, I'm tired... So damned tired..._ More than anything in the world, he wanted to be still, just for a little while. 

A shiver ran through him, raising goose bumps on his skin. The latitude was sub-tropical, but at this altitude a slight chill had settled over the forest as the light faded. He lifted a brown liquid to his mouth and took a long swallow. It scalded its way to his belly, its warmth spreading agreeably through his gut. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand. They would be here. They had intruded upon this lonely place before, and they would surely do so again. He had watched them many times now, they never once imagining his presence. He would wait, and they would be here. Eventually.

*******

In time, man-made noise intruded upon the quiet. The watcher listened to the sound grow louder, knowing it was what he had been waiting for, but wishing it had never arrived. Unnatural light played across the landscape, two beams swinging up and down, back and forth, drawing closer. With one final lurch forward, a large pickup truck appeared in the small clearing below him and ground to a halt. The engine was silenced, and he watched as two powerfully built, short haired young men dressed in blue jeans and T-shirts stepped into the small pool of light carved out of the vast darkness by the truck's headlights. 

They worked quietly, efficiently, with only a soft _chink_ of noise here and there. If he looked toward the dark valley below, he could even pretend they were not there. Their very presence grated on his soul. Their arrival required action, but it was not action that he craved. He wanted only to be left alone. _Just this one,_ he reassured himself. _Finish this one and you'll be done. You'll have all the solitude money can buy._

The melodious night sounds were suddenly and jarringly interrupted by a metallic _thunk_, followed by a loud "Watch what you're doing, _dumbshit__!_" from the larger of the two men. He shoved the smaller man forcefully, snarling, "You almost dropped that ammo can on my foot!" 

"Sorry, Smitty. It won't happen again," muttered the second man miserably, retrieving the heavy green canister from the ground and a second one like it from the bed of the pickup.

"It better not, _pissant_." The man named Smitty also picked up two green canisters, and together they carried them toward a door hidden among the trees and half-buried in the hillside. The old ammunition bunker was far from any civilization, providing the privacy the two needed to conceal their illicit activity; the pickup's headlights supplied just enough illumination to show that the small bunker was filled with boxes and crates of ammunition and explosives.

_It's time,_ thought the man in the shadows. He was quite unwilling to put into motion what must now be put into motion. But after a moment he smiled greedily. _Just one more,_ he thought, rising silently.

"Where's your guy?" barked Smitty impatiently as the two men walked back to the truck. "He's late." _This haul will make us a bundle, if the moron's contact shows..._

"Don't worry, Smitty, he'll be here," responded the other with a nervous glance over his shoulder. 

"I worry, Thompson, I worry..." growled his companion. "We got our asses on the line here, and he can't even show up on time?!" He looked furtively into the surrounding darkness. "This place gives me the creeps. We're not gonna hang around. Gimme a hand with this shit and then let's get outta here."

The two heaved a heavy crate from the truck and were lugging it toward the open door of the bunker when a deep voice emanated from the darkness. "Evening, boys." Neither of the two would ever admit that the voice had scared the hell out of them.

"It's about time you showed up," snapped Smitty, recovering quickly and turning as the new arrival stepped into the light. He had a gun trained on them, and he was not the man they had been expecting…

"Holy _shit_," a panicked Thompson whispered under his breath from behind Smitty. "The _colonel!_ We're _screwed!!_"

"Shut up!" Smitty whispered viciously over his shoulder, then spoke evenly to the man with the gun. "Ah, good evening, sir. We were just, ah..."

"Save the bullshit, Sergeant," the man cut him off. "Way I see it," he continued in a deep drawl, "you and me and the corporal here got a couple of choices. I can get on the radio and call for backup." The man paused, raised the bottle of whiskey in his left hand to his mouth and took a long swallow, his eyes never leaving the astonished Marines. "Or we can have ourselves a little talk."

"Talk, sir?" Sergeant Smith repeated weakly. _What the hell is going on, here?_ he thought wildly. One thing to be caught red-handed, but this was absolutely bizarre. The colonel sounded dead drunk, and that probably made him even more dangerous than he would normally have been.

"Talk, Sergeant," the man replied with a calculating grin. "About my cut."

*******

A Jeep Wrangler slid quietly into the parking space beside a dark blue Lincoln Town Car at the deserted scenic overlook. It was early, in the gray light just before sunrise, and the place had not yet been overrun by tourists. Both drivers exited their cars and walked to the railing, looking around warily.

With a quick glance, the distinguished-looking silver-haired driver of the Lincoln assessed the other's appearance. Despite his wiry, athletic build, the man looked awful; his blue eyes red-rimmed and puffy, his short, dark blonde hair greasy, his clothes wrinkled. He reeked of alcohol and cheap cigars... Swallowing his distaste, the older man tried to decide whether his companion was still drunk, or merely hung over. 

"Were you followed?"

"No, Admiral, we should be alone," responded the Jeep's chisel-faced operator in a deep southern drawl. "I've made contact."

"Then it's time to initiate phase two of our operation. Still think you can pull it off?" 

"No problem," replied the other with a humorless smile. "There have been some complications, though."

"Yes," responded the admiral, "I know. I'm taking steps to deal with them, Colonel. Don't worry, no one will get in your way. We'll continue just as planned."

The other man nodded curtly.

"We won't be meeting again until this is over," the admiral continued. "We can't risk being seen together."

"Agreed. I'll know where to find you after we hit pay dirt."

The men returned to their cars and quickly drove away in opposite directions.

*******

Thomas Magnum plowed through the warm, salty water as the sun crept over the horizon, his powerful strokes carrying him effortlessly along the shoreline. He seemed oblivious to the gorgeous sunrise, the sky ablaze with an amazing array of oranges and pinks, the stunning blue water reflecting the colors and multiplying the beauty. _Sometimes, _thought Magnum, _you can get a little dulled, a little desensitized, living in paradise. You start taking a lot of things for granted. The sunrises, the sunsets, the rainbows, the beautiful weather. Sometimes you start taking the really important things for granted, then it can take a good slap in the face to open your eyes to what's really valuable in life, and make you stop procrastinating. Not that **I **would know **anything** about procrastination..._

Panting from exertion, Magnum slogged out of the water and onto the small, private beach.

"Magnum?!" A short, somewhat rotund man with thinning hair and a narrow, neatly trimmed mustache marched on to the beach. "Where have you been?" he demanded in a clipped British accent.

"I haven't _beeeen_ anywhere, Higgins," replied the tall, dark-haired, handsome man, mimicking the shorter man's British pronunciation of the word by drawing out the long "e." "I've been right here ... taking my early morning swim ... just like I do ... every day," he continued in a long-suffering tone, his patience worn thin by years of harassment at the hands of the other man.

"Don't you think it's irresponsible to leave Lily alone in the guest house?" Jonathan Higgins, the majordomo of this expansive ocean-front Oahu estate known as "Robin's Nest," had been particularly watchful of Magnum's young daughter, Lily, since she moved in several months ago.

"No, Higgins, I don't. We've been over this." Magnum's green eyes flashed as he grabbed his towel from the rock wall bordering the beach and began drying himself. "She knows where I am, I can hear her if she calls, and Zeus and Apollo aren't going to let anyone near the place without yapping loud enough to wake the dead. Now, what _is_ it that's _so_ important??" he demanded impatiently.

Higgins' face darkened at the insult to his Dobermans. "Zeus and Apollo do not 'yap'," he sniffed, "they patrol. Nevertheless, to the business at hand. Did you return the 'Thousand Clowns' video you rented, as you indicated you would last week?"

Magnum winced. "Well, Higgins, I meant to. I just got so busy, with PTA meetings and Girl Scouts and everything..." He spread his uplifted hands wide in helpless surrender.

Higgins pursed his lips. "As I suspected. A rather embarrassing state of affairs, to say the least." Higgins waved the paper he held in his hand in Magnum's direction. "You will remember you charged the video to Mr. Masters' account, and now the video store is demanding immediate payment and return, or they will press _charges._ Really, Magnum, I know you have a lot on your mind, but I _demand_ you take care of this, _today!_"

Magnum looked pointedly at his watch. "Oh, boy, look at the time. I gotta run, Higgins, or I'll be late for work." He jogged through the gate and across the lawn toward the guest house. "I'll take care of it today, I promise!" he yelled back over his shoulder.

Higgins stared after him. In the months since Magnum had rejoined the Navy and had quite unexpectedly become a single father, he had changed his ways dramatically. He'd become responsible and conscientious in most areas, but he still tended to procrastinate, and occasionally he completely dropped the ball.

Higgins thought that Magnum also seemed to strike a curious balance where Lily was concerned, leaving her alone in the guest house while he was on the grounds, but watching her like a hawk when she was elsewhere. There were unbreakable rules in place about who could pick up Lily from school and from her other activities. Magnum knew that while his arch-enemy, Quang Ki, may have been expelled from Hawaii, he was not gone, and Lily was still a target.

*******

Magnum showered quickly and dressed in his khaki uniform. His morning run had been curtailed in favor of a swim in the tidal pool, since he had to wait for Lily's sitter to arrive before he could go any distance from the house. Higgins had insisted that he and Lily stay at the estate for a while, until he could get settled. Magnum had reluctantly agreed that the estate provided a much better setting for a child than any apartment he would be able to afford. Besides, he had had to admit darkly, the security here was much better, and that would _always_ be a consideration.

"Lily," Magnum called softly as he shook the little girl gently. "It's time to get up."

Lily sat up sleepily and rubbed her eyes. "Bon jour, Papa," she greeted him with a smile. Her lilting voice was still beautifully accented by the French and Vietnamese she had spoken until recently. Although she was only six, English was her third language.

"Good morning, darlin'." Thomas returned his daughter's smile and kissed her on the forehead. "Get dressed while I get your breakfast ready." 

The little girl skipped off toward the bathroom. For the umpteenth time, Thomas marveled at just how much Lily reminded him of her mother, Michelle; both with beautiful dark hair, dark eyes, and French accents. A bittersweet reminder, to be sure; Michelle's recent murder by Quang Ki's hand was still a raw, agonizing wound. _Michelle,_ he thought, his chest tightening with grief. Old memories poured unbidden through him. His wedding in Vietnam. Michelle as his wife. The news from Buck Greene that Michelle was dead. The chaotic departure from southeast Asia. 

And more recent memories. Michelle, miraculously still alive, visiting Hawaii as the wife of Nguyen Hue, a North Vietnamese general. Thomas's brief reunion with her. The gun battle in Little Saigon; Colonel Ki lying dead, Michelle still alive. Michelle's heartbreaking goodbye as Thomas lay bleeding in the street. Her departure with her husband. 

And even more recently. The pictures of Hue's execution. Michelle's arrival in Hawaii, one step ahead of her enemies. Lily... Michelle's daughter, Lily, who knew about the Detroit Tigers... Yet another impossible goodbye... 

Then the most recent. The most searingly painful... Quang Ki's attempt on Magnum's life in revenge for his brother's death. Michelle at Thomas's bedside as he lay in a coma. Michelle escaping Ki's men. Michelle with Edward… Michelle at Thomas's special place, the cliff high above Makapuu... _I love you, Michelle. More than anyone I've ever known. And I'm letting you go._

Thomas squeezed his eyes shut. Somehow, despite elaborate precautions, Ki had located Michelle and Edward Durant eight months ago, and had had a bomb placed in their car. Michelle and Edward had been killed. Lily had jumped from the car to retrieve her doll... _Thank God Lily doesn't remember what happened._ Ki had had a videotape of the murder sent to Magnum. Thomas drew in a deep breath, shook his head to try and dismiss the horror as he turned back to his morning tasks.

Just as Magnum finished packing Lily's lunch, there was a knock on the door. He bounded up the steps, checked the peephole, and threw open the door. "Morning, Alicia," he greeted the fifty-ish Hawaiian woman standing before him. "Come on in, I'm almost ready to go," he continued, hurrying back down the stairs.

"Thomas Magnum, you are _always_ running late," she scolded gently. "Why don't you just get up earlier?"

"That would take all the fun out of it," he responded with a boyish grin.

"Auntie Alicia!" screeched Lily, launching herself at her now-beloved sitter. 

Despite her benign appearance, Alicia was a jiu jitsu black belt who had been hired more for her ability to protect Lily than for anything else. Thomas wondered just how long it would be before Lily noticed that he, Higgins, or Alicia always accompanied her class whenever they left school, or that the "school security guard" was actually a body guard hired by one Thomas Sullivan Magnum.

Magnum scooped up Lily and gave her a hug and a kiss. "Bye, darlin'," he said.

"Au revoir, Papa," she replied with a smile as she wrapped her small arms around her father's neck.

Thomas set Lily down and looked at her wistfully for a second before grabbing his gym bag. "Take good care of my girl," he charged Alicia as he started up the stairs.

"You betcha." The two of them traded those same words every day; they had become a talisman against evil.

*******

The door to Colonel Buck Greene's office slammed shut with a resounding _boom_, causing everyone to jump, although it caught no one by surprise. Everyone in the office had been surreptitiously watching as the colonel blew his top again. The commander of the Naval Intelligence Agency (NIA, for short) at Pearl Harbor, Colonel Greene was a straight-laced Marine, always playing everything strictly by the book. An exacting taskmaster, he had never been easy to work for. Lately, however, he had been exceptionally moody and irritable, snapping at everyone in his path. Although it was only 0800, it appeared as though today would be no different.

Lieutenant Commander Maggie Poole walked crisply into the NIA front office and stopped in front of Major Edward Jarrett, the Marine officer who was Colonel Greene's aide. "Morning, Ed. Can I get on the colonel's schedule? I've got a copy of that brief he asked for," she said brightly, holding up a thick manila envelope.

"You don't want to go in there, Commander," Petty Officer Moore muttered from his seat behind a nearby desk as he glanced nervously toward the colonel's office. The young sailor looked as though he was afraid Greene might hear him through the thick wooden door.

"Morning, YN2," she greeted him cheerfully, using the Navy nickname for a yeoman, second class. "Why not?"

"He's not in a very good mood," replied Moore.

"That's the understatement of the week," added the major morosely. "He took Katherine's head off at the brief this morning."

"Uh-oh," muttered Maggie with a wince. She glanced at the yeoman and bit off the rest of her comment. Lieutenant Katherine Prescott was one of the better briefers on the watch floor, someone unlikely to have made an error serious enough to deserve being bawled out in front of everybody. Maggie had spent the last two weeks on temporary duty in San Diego, and had returned just this morning to NIA. There had been rumblings about the colonel's mood. 

"Why?" she asked.

"No real reason that I could..."

Jarrett was interrupted by the crash of the colonel's door slamming open. Maggie stared, appalled, her mouth dropping open at the sight before her. Greene looked ... _disheveled_... His eyes were bloodshot, his uniform wrinkled and askew, his hair plastered to his head. _Whew... When was the last time he took a shower?_ This was not the impeccably groomed colonel she was accustomed to seeing. Something was terribly wrong...

"What are _you_ lookin' at, _Maggie?_" the colonel snarled.

_Maggie?! He stopped calling me Maggie years ago. What the hell...? I'd heard the rumors, but this is worse than I thought._ Maggie dropped her gaze, embarrassed for him. She had seen other men succumb to the pressures of this profession, but had never imagined it could happen to Buck Greene.

Greene turned on the yeoman. "Moore, where's my goddam read board?!" he roared.

"I... I t-took it back to the watch floor, like you t-told me to, sir," stammered the confused petty officer.

"Now why the _hell_ would I tell you to do a damn fool thing like that?!" Greene demanded.

Poole and Jarrett exchanged a fleeting glance as the yeoman stood speechless, his mouth opening and closing reflexively like a guppy out of water as he attempted in vain to formulate an answer that might assuage the colonel's rage.

**_"Go get it!!"_** bellowed Greene in the petty officer's face. 

Greene cast a threatening look around the room as the Moore shot out the door and down the hall. The aide was the next victim. "Major, I told you to have my schedule on my desk by zero six thirty. It's not there," the colonel began in a soft, menacing voice that made his next snarl seem even louder. "Get me that schedule, _now!_" Greene's face was crimson. 

"Yes, sir," replied the major, not foolish enough to mention that he had left the required schedule in the middle of the colonel's desk at precisely 0620.

"Maggie, where's that report?" Greene snapped. As she handed him the manila envelope peppered with high-level classification markings, Maggie smelled the unmistakable odor of alcohol on his breath. He ripped open the envelope and flipped through the first few pages of the contents, his face darkening. 

"China, Maggie. I want the rundown on China, not North Korea, dammit!" He flung the paperwork across the room, scattering pages through the air.

"Shit!" Greene barked, once again sweeping the room with a menacing gaze. "Is there one, single _fucking_ competent person left at this command??"

The colonel turned on his heel, stormed back into his office and slammed the door shut for the second time in less than half an hour.

Lieutenant Commander Poole and Major Jarrett exchanged astonished looks, each knowing they had completed their task as directed, as had YN2 Moore. Each sure that Katherine Prescott had also done her job well. Each taken aback by the colonel's atypical use of foul language. Jarrett knew the colonel could cuss up a storm, but he had always restricted that behavior to the field, rather than the office, and while Maggie had heard him make all sorts of male-chauvinist remarks, couldn't ever remember hearing him curse. 

"What are we going to do?" Maggie asked.

"We? Do?" Jarrett shook his head slowly. "I'm not gonna do a thing. Not a chance. Waaayyyy above my pay grade... Deputy Dog over there," he continued, flicking his chin toward the closed office door belonging to Captain Clements, Greene's second-in-command, "has seen as much as we have, probably more. Let him deal with it. I just wanna make it to my rotation date and get out of here in one piece."

YN2 Moore scurried breathlessly back into the office, cutting off further conversation between the two officers. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he knocked on the colonel's door.

As Moore disappeared inside, Major Jarrett whispered to Maggie, "And you'll steer clear of him too, if you have any sense."

It was going to be another long day in paradise...

*******

"It's open, come in," Thomas called out. _Wow, Higgins actually knocked,_ he thought, continuing to rummage through his closet, adding items to his gym bag in preparation for this evening's basketball practice. He had just time to pick up Lily from her Brownie meeting before practice.

"Hi, Thomas."

Magnum jerked his head toward the door. He had expected Higgins; the red-haired woman casually dressed in chinos and a flattering camp shirt caught him by surprise. "Oh, hi, Maggie," he greeted her with a smile. The smile slowly faded as he studied her face. "Why the solemn look? What's going on?"

Maggie walked slowly down the stairs. "Is Lily here?"

"No, she's out with Alicia. Why?" Magnum stood up quickly, alarm bells starting to go off in his head. "What's wrong? Has Ki…?"

"No, no, nothing like that, not at all," she assured him. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

He relaxed. "Then what is it? You look like you just lost your best friend. Have a seat."

Maggie sat gingerly on the edge of the couch. "Have you seen Buck Greene lately?"

Thomas dropped into a chair next to her and leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. "No, our paths don't cross much any more, thankfully. Why?" he asked quietly.

Maggie dropped her eyes to study her hands as she wrung them together in her lap, and made one last decision. "There's something wrong, Thomas. I don't know what, and I don't know who to talk to." She took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Buck is acting like he's going around the bend. He's drinking like a fish, irrational, snapping at everyone, yelling and screaming at people in public... 

The day I got back from San Diego, he made a huge scene in the front office. In the last few days, I've seen him scream at some of our best watch officers for mistakes that never happened. He reeks of alcohol all the time, he hasn't showered, his uniform is a mess. I don't know if he's got a drinking problem that's finally gotten out of control, or if he's having some kind of breakdown that he's taking out on everyone else, or what, but it's got to be addressed... I'm just not sure how, or with whom..." 

Maggie looked up at her friend. "I'd really rather Buck just cut it out... I don't want to have to take it up the chain, but I'm the security officer; I don't have the option of just letting it go..." Her intense gaze locked on his face. "Either it has to stop, or someone has to decide whether Buck should have his clearance pulled. Captain Clements has seen everything, but he's turning a blind eye. I tried to talk to him, but he blew me off." Maggie looked plaintively at him. _Please help me, Thomas._

_I'm not surprised; Clements is a political weasel looking out for his own career._ Confronting your own commanding officer on something like this was often a career killer, even if you were right.

"Today, after everyone left, I tried to talk to Buck," Maggie continued. "He screamed and yelled, and threw my out of his office. He said nothing he did was any of my damned business. He, ah," she paused, a flush creeping up her face. "Thomas, he called me a meddling little bitch... Not that that's such a big deal, but it's not like him at all..."

Magnum looked sharply at her. As much as he didn't like Buck, this was way out of character, even for him. _Still,_ thought Thomas, _this isn't my problem._

He stared hard at Maggie for a few seconds, and finally asked softly, "What do you expect _me_ to do about it, Maggie?"

She leaned forward, her face and eyes pleading, her voice as intense as he had ever heard it. "Talk to him, Thomas. Maybe you can get through to him, find out what's wrong, help him."

"You're _kidding_!" exclaimed Magnum. "You want _me_ to talk to Buck??"

"Yes, Thomas, I do. I think he might listen to you."

"Not a chance," spat Magnum. He rose abruptly from his chair, stalked across the room, and stood silently with his hands jammed in his pockets. _If he'd done his job right, Michelle would still be alive,_ he thought bitterly. _I'll be damned if I lift a finger for him._

Maggie's face flared red as she, too, jumped to her feet. "Thomas, you owe him..."

Magnum turned on her. "I don't owe Buck Greene a damned thing!" he shouted.

Maggie responded with equal passion. "No? You don't think so?? Like it or not, _yes you do!_ Just who do you think made it possible for you to have Lily back with you?" Thomas peered at her through narrowed eyes. "You think it was _me_? Are you _kidding_?? Buck pulled all those strings! Every agency involved was ready to send Lily away to live with strangers, to let you believe she had died with Michelle in the explosion. It was simpler that way -- for them. Buck took on the bureaucracies of two governments to bring Lily to you. He risked his career for that, Thomas. Buck Greene came through for you, and it's time for you to return the favor!"

Magnum stood stock still, staring at Maggie in shocked silence. After a few weighty seconds, he stared hard into her eyes. "Buck Greene doesn't do favors for anyone," he declared bluntly, his face stony but his eyes raging with emotion. He turned away without further comment, walked slowly up the stairs, and grabbed a jacket and his Tigers ball cap from a peg near the door.

"Where are you going?" Maggie demanded.

"Out," he replied woodenly, his back to her. "I need some air. And I have to pick up Lily. I can't help you, Maggie." He shut the door quietly behind him.

For a few moments, Maggie simply stood rooted in place, stunned, not believing Magnum's dislike for Buck could run so deep as to keep him from helping the man, not believing that he would refuse to help _her_. Finally, furious, she bounded up the steps behind him and rounded the corner of the guest house just as he was climbing into the Land Rover that had been a gift from Robin Masters. "It's about time you grew up, Thomas Magnum!!" she shouted across the lawn. The car door slammed shut and Magnum roared up the driveway, spewing gravel behind him. _"Damn it!"_ she muttered, silently cursing her friend's stubborn streak. "Now what am I going to do?"

*******

With a heavy heart, Maggie entered Admiral Hawkes' outer office and requested permission to speak with him. She'd spent a long, sleepless night trying to decide what to do about Buck. It still hurt like hell that Thomas had walked out on her. Without his help, there had been no options left except to, reluctantly, go over the colonel's head and speak to the admiral.

When first the admiral's secretary, and then his aide, Captain Perry, inquired as to the topic of discussion, Maggie refused to elaborate beyond the fact that it was a private security matter. Perry was furious. He hated being out of the loop, but he knew Maggie was acting within her purview for security matters. He'd just have to get the details later from the admiral.

Maggie sat stiffly on the edge of a chair in front of Admiral Hawkes' desk. "What's this all about, Commander, that you felt you couldn't share it with Captain Perry?" Hawkes inquired sternly. Everyone knew that all but the most serious of matters were first discussed with the captain, to ensure the admiral wasn't interrupted by trivial issues.

"Sir..." She paused to take a deep breath. "Sir," she began again, "I'm here in my capacity as the NIA security officer, and I..."

"Why aren't you speaking with Colonel Greene? He's your Commanding Officer," Hawkes snapped, cutting her off.

"Admiral," she continued, her voice hardening, "Colonel Greene is why I'm here. I wonder if you've noticed his behavior lately, sir?"

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, Commander, but I don't think I like your implications. Whatever you're about to tell me, I hope you have some good evidence, because you're on very thin ice at the moment."

_I'm just trying to do my job, here, dammit!!_ Maggie masked her displeasure and stifled an angry response. "Sir, he's been drinking an awful lot, and it's beginning to show."

The admiral frowned. "Hmmm, I can't say as I had noticed."

_How the hell could you possibly miss it, admiral?? Are you blind??_ "Sir, with all due respect, someone (_You_, she thought) needs to make a decision on whether the colonel's behavior is erratic enough to warrant suspending his access to sensitive material."

Hawkes plastered a tolerant, humorless smile on his face. "Well, now, commander, let's not be too hasty, shall we? I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all this. I'll talk to Colonel Greene; no need for you to worry about it any further. Understood?"

"Understood, sir." She knew her concerns would probably be ignored, the whole thing swept under the rug. If any junior petty officer had behaved like the colonel had in these past few weeks, he'd have been to Captain's Mast already. _Damned double standard._ She started to get up from her seat, knowing the conversation was over.

The admiral leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on his desk. "I'm glad you're here, however. I was going to call you in today to discuss a different matter. Please, sit."

"Sir?" she responded in surprise, sinking back into her seat. _A different matter? What else is going on that I don't know about?_

"I have an assignment I'd like you to consider. I'm afraid it could be a fairly dangerous assignment..." Maggie's eyebrows shot upward at the admiral's grave tone. "I need someone to go undercover. As far as Colonel Greene or anyone else at NIA will know, you'll be on leave. Interested?"

"Undercover, sir? I'm an analyst." _What the hell?_

"Yes, but I'm sure you've seen the reports about the international weapons smuggling ring that's been getting hold of Navy weapons and explosives. They're about to make a big move. I need someone to infiltrate the ring. To be blunt, I need a woman... A beautiful woman..." Hawkes paused, embarrassed, as Maggie's jaw dropped. 

"I know, Commander, I know," he finally continued with a grimace. "That's one of the more sexist comments I could have made. But those are the cold, hard facts. I can't get a man inside the organization, but a woman, as a girlfriend, or..." His voice dropped away again as his face reddened.

"Are you asking me to _sleep_ with someone??" Maggie asked incredulously.

"No, of course not!" the admiral exclaimed. He continued in an especially sober voice. "But you shouldn't be under any illusions. This is a group of vicious criminals, and you'd be out there without a safety net. Without backup..." 

He pursed his lips. "Believe me, Commander, I don't like this idea one bit, but I'm out of options. We have information that a big deal is going down, very soon. We have to find out who's behind this operation, _ASAP_. I don't have a female agent available, and I don't have time to bring one in from the mainland and get her oriented to the islands." 

The admiral's face looked pale and drawn. Maggie could see that the situation was taking its toll on the man as he continued wearily, "I'm from the old school. I hate the idea of sending a woman into danger, but I'm realistic enough to recognize that a woman is probably our only viable option if we're going to be successful."

Maggie stared at the man, not sure how to respond. Did he expect an answer? She didn't have many facts upon which to base such an important decision.

"Don't give me an answer now. Sleep on it; see me tomorrow morning. If you decide to take the assignment, I'll give you a full briefing then."

Maggie stood slowly. "Aye, aye, sir."

"Dismissed."

Maggie walked to the door as the admiral stared out the window, lost in thought.

*******

Maggie arrived at home that evening still reeling from the surprise the admiral had sprung. Her mind was a million miles away as she inserted her key in the front door. _What the???_ She jumped and gasped in fear as someone stepped from the shadows, grabbed her upper arm, and spun her around.

The relief at seeing a familiar face vanished when she saw his expression. _Buck! What's he doing here? Oh, boy, he looks pissed._

A furious Colonel Greene hissed in her face, "You're playing with fire, Maggie!" Although he was whispering, he might as well have been screaming. "Just what the hell did you think you were doing, talking to the boss about me? Just who the _hell_ do you think you are?? I'm telling you right now, _leave it alone!!_ _Walk away._ You don't _even_ wanna screw with me, 'cause I am one _mean_ son of a bitch!"

Maggie shuddered. This wasn't the Buck Greene she knew. He reeked of alcohol; he must have spent a good part of the afternoon drinking. Whatever was going on, this was really starting to get scary. She could feel adrenaline coursing through her as she tried to formulate a response. 

"Sir, you're hurting my arm," she finally managed, with some measure of calm. 

He tightened his grip further. "Remember that..." he snarled. "You could get hurt in a lot of ways..." he threatened ominously before suddenly releasing her and disappearing into the darkness.

Maggie dove through her front door and frantically locked it behind her. Gulping for air and shaking so hard she could barely see the numbers, she had Thomas's phone number half dialed before she slowed down, stopped punching buttons, and hung up. She rubbed at the vivid red welt still starkly visible on her upper arm. _Thomas made himself pretty clear that he wants nothing to do with Buck. I think I'm on my own, here. Maybe the best thing to do is to go work for the admiral for a few days, let Buck cool off, and then see where I stand._

*******

Early the next morning, after another long night of tossing and turning, Maggie reported back to Admiral Hawkes. A perplexed Captain Perry watched with a frown as she was quickly ushered in to the spacious office. Hawkes had rebuffed all his aide's efforts to find out what was going on with Poole. Perry hated being left out of the loop. It was one of the perks of being an aide, pretty much knowing everything that was going on.

Hawkes got right to the point. "I'm very glad you decided to take the assignment, Commander. This man," he handed her a picture of an Asian about her age, "is one of the group's operatives. He's being groomed for bigger things, and he's in frequent contact with one of the key middlemen, this man." He handed her a photograph of another Asian, a man probably in his late forties. "They usually spend a good deal of time on a private yacht, which is probably where the deals are finalized. 

Your target is the younger man. He hangs out here." He handed her the name and address of a bar in a Honolulu neighborhood that she didn't make a habit of visiting. At least she wasn't terribly likely to run in to anyone she knew. 

"He, ah..." the admiral's face reddened as he continued. "He has an affinity for white women; the fairer the better. Redheads are, um," he cleared his throat, "a particular favorite." Hawkes' face was crimson.

"Admiral," she began slowly and uncomfortably, "I know what you said yesterday, but it certainly sounds like you want me to sleep with him."

"No, of course not!" Hawkes protested. "I just want you to get aboard that yacht, keep your ears open, and find out who's running the show."

"Alone. No back up." Maggie didn't like this one bit.

Hawkes nodded slowly. "I'm afraid so. Second thoughts? No harm, no foul, if you want to back out."

Maggie was no coward. She didn't like the odds, but there was no way she was going to back out now. Besides, she still needed to stay away from Buck for a while. "If it's really that important, sir, I'll do it."

"It _is_ that important, Commander," the admiral said quietly. "Thank you." He handed her a manila envelope. "This has your new identity, complete with ID, credit cards, drivers license, etcetera. You have an apartment in Aeia and a rental car reservation at the airport. Pack a bag, take a cab to the airport, and disappear. Your leave papers are signed and waiting for you in admin. I doubt Colonel Greene will give you any problems, but if he does, have him speak directly to me." He stood, walked around his desk, and extended his hand to Maggie. "Good luck, Commander." 

She returned his firm handshake. "Thank you, sir." _Why so grim?_ she thought as she left the office. She knew this could be a dangerous assignment, but even so, the admiral seemed unusually solemn.

*******

Thomas Magnum strode into the NIA front office and stopped short at Petty Officer Moore's desk. "Is Colonel Greene in there?" he demanded, stabbing an index finger in the direction of Buck's office.

"Yes, sir, but..." Magnum barreled toward Greene's door with Moore trailing helplessly behind. "Commander, please," he pleaded, "you can't..."

Magnum turned the knob and threw the door open. Maggie had been right; Buck looked like hell. Thomas had seen many sides of Buck Greene over the years. He'd seen Buck drunk, sick, enraged, worn out and ground down by battle, and grief-stricken over the death of his Marines, but he'd never seen him looking quite like this... Thomas was glad his little voice had shamed him into doing as Maggie had asked, even if it _had_ taken a day for him to come around.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here, Magnum?" snarled Greene from his seat behind his large desk.

"I'm sorry sir," babbled the terrified yeoman. "I tried to stop him, but..."

"_Dismissed_," ordered Greene, casting a withering look toward the young man.

"Aye, aye, sir," replied Moore miserably, knowing there would be hell to pay later for allowing someone to get into this office.

Magnum shut the door firmly behind the retreating petty officer and turned to face Greene.

"What's going on, Buck?"

Buck's temper was at full throttle, his southern drawl even more pronounced than usual as he came to his feet. "No matter whether you mean that professionally or personally, it's none of your _damned_ business. I've got a news flash for you, _Commander_... You're back in the military now, and I outrank you. Don't you _dare_ barge into this office again, or I'll have you removed ... in _handcuffs!_" 

It seemed implausible, but the Buck's rage deepened even further. His face was beet red, though whether from anger or the effects of alcohol, it was impossible to tell. Flecks of white spittle appeared in the corners of his mouth as he leaned across the desk, rested his weight on his hands, and continued his tirade. 

"Who sent you over here? _Maggie?!_ That little bitch has meddled one too many times." Magnum stared wordlessly at the enraged man. "I'll tell you the same thing I told her: leave it alone. Leave _me_ alone!" Greene straightened. _"Now, get the **fuck** out of my office!!"_

Magnum stared hard at Greene. "Whatever it is, Buck, it's gonna eat you alive. Let someone help," he said evenly.

Buck's eyes narrowed to bloodshot slits as he cocked his head to one side and lowered his voice to a menacing growl. "Go to _hell_, Magnum. Get out now, or I _will_ have you arrested..." He reached for the phone.

Thomas knew it wasn't an empty threat, and since he couldn't do much from a cell in the brig, he moved slowly toward the door. As he reached for the doorknob, he looked back over his shoulder and made one final attempt. "C'mon, Buck, let me help," he offered quietly. Greene picked up the phone. Magnum sighed heavily, shook his head, and opened the door.

The colonel slammed the receiver into its cradle and followed Magnum out. He extended a bony index finger at Magnum and bellowed at Moore. "You let this man anywhere near my office again and it's a one-way ticket to _Diego Garcia_, you _got_ that?"

"Y-Yes, sir," stuttered Moore miserably as he stood at rigid attention behind his desk. Greene's door shook once more under the onslaught of being slammed against its frame. Despite his anxiety, Moore had to stifle hysterical laughter as he pictured the entire door, frame and all, simply falling from the wall and crashing to the floor.

Magnum stared at the closed door for a moment, his lips set in a thin line. He turned to the Moore and Jarrett, knowing they would pay the price for his confrontation with Greene. "Sorry for the trouble, guys," he apologized, making a mental note to ensure their annual evaluations didn't suffer as well. "Have you seen Lieutenant Commander Poole?"

"She checked out on leave this morning, sir. Said something about a college reunion back home on the mainland," responded Jarrett.

"Really?!" responded Magnum, completely taken aback, his eyebrows shooting upwards in surprise. _Hmph__, that's not like Maggie to leave the islands without telling me... And she usually likes to say hello to Mom when she goes to the east coast._ His little voice began chattering quietly. _There's something very strange going on around here._ But, then again, he and Maggie hadn't been on the best terms the last time they'd spoken, so he supposed he couldn't blame her for not calling him and letting him know she was leaving. _I guess I deserve the silent treatment._

*******

Maggie spent the rest of the day moving in to her temporary apartment and getting better acquainted with the area. She went for a long swim, ate some dinner, and located the seedy bar that was her objective for the evening.

It didn't take Maggie long to attract the young Asian man's attention. She watched him enter the bar and waited about ten minutes. She approached the door slowly, took a deep breath, walked in and looked around. He was sitting at a table halfway toward the back, and stared openly at her as she stood just inside the door. She smiled shyly, dropped her gaze, and took a seat at the end of the bar.

Within a few minutes, the man slid on to the barstool next to Maggie. "A pretty girl like you? Alone?" he asked with an engaging smile.

Maggie returned the smile with another shy one of her own. "I'm kinda new in town," she said. "I really don't have many friends yet, and I heard this was a good place to hear some decent music."

"Where are you from?" he asked, signaling the bartender to bring him a beer.

"Wyoming. I hate winter, and my life has taken some turns I didn't expect." A sad look crossed her face. "So I decided to start over, and here I am," she concluded with a bright, if somewhat forced, smile.

"My name is Minh," he said, offering his hand. "Minh Chu."

"Anna," she responded, placing her hand in his. "Anna Walsh."

He shook her hand, then very gently kissed the back of it. "_Very_ nice to meet you, Anna Walsh from Wyoming," he continued with a grin.

_He's smooth, I'll give him that,_ thought Maggie. "Likewise, Minh. I'd heard people here in Hawaii were very friendly. So far, it seems to be true," she responded with a smile.

"Do you dance?"

"I love to dance!"

"Shall we?" He extended his hand.

Two hours flew by as 'Anna' and Minh danced, drank and talked. "Can I see you again?" he asked hopefully as he walked her to her small rental car. 

"I'd like that," she responded with another warm smile.

"Tomorrow? Here?"

"Sure, that sounds like fun!" she exclaimed as Minh held her car door open for her.

"I'm glad we met, Anna." He kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"So am I," she responded happily, climbing behind the wheel and rolling down the window. "Good night."

"Good night." Minh waved as 'Anna' pulled away. His warm smile remained firmly in place until she disappeared around the corner. Then his face underwent a rapid, dramatic change, twisting into a leering, lecherous grin. _Two days,_ he thought._ That's all it will take me to get that sweet, naïve piece of pussy into bed. Just two short days._ He returned to the bar, ordered a beer, and sat fantasizing about what he would do with his prize.

*******

Steve McGarrett, the chief of the state police, followed his early morning routine religiously; a hard run along the beach followed by a hot shower and the first of many mugs of thick, black coffee. He had almost finished his run when another man fell into step beside him. "If you don't stop being so predictable, you're going to get yourself shot again," the man said.

"Colonel, nice to see you. It's been a while. What brings you out here at this hour on a Saturday?" _Your mere presence ruins the beauty of the morning..._

"Just a nice morning run," Buck Greene responded evenly as McGarrett slowed to a walk, his run complete.

"Uh-huh," the tall, dark-haired man responded skeptically. "And?"

Greene grimaced. "And," he repeated as he slowed his own pace, "I need your help."

"_You_ need _my_ help?" McGarrett chuckled. "What ever happened to 'never involve the locals'?" he continued sarcastically. _Something doesn't add up, _he thought suspiciously._ This is too easy. Buck Greene has stonewalled Five-0 every time our paths have crossed._

McGarrett thought back over his relationship with Greene._ First, there was the shootout between Thomas Magnum and the Vietnamese colonel, Ki, in 1981. Everything was swept neatly under the State Department rug, but I know Greene was in on that one. _

_And I'm positive Greene knew more than he would say about the murder of the Bulgarian diplomat, Ivan, just a year after the Ki incident. _McGarrett was positive Thomas Magnum had been the shooter, but Greene had steadfastly maintained that he knew nothing, questioning Magnum had proven fruitless, and there hadn't been any hard evidence...

_And Quang Ki, dammit!_ McGarrett fumed. Last year, Colonel Ki's brother, Quang, had tried to kill Magnum. Just a few months ago, the charges against Ki were mysteriously dropped, and he had disappeared._ That case was solid; the DA and I were never been able to find out who pulled strings to get it dismissed. Lack of evidence, my ass. _

McGarrett had heard rumors about Greene's involvement in the repatriation of Captain Rockwell after almost twenty years of captivity in Vietnam, and certainly had his suspicions about Ki's connection to the affair. The timing was too perfect; a high-ranking Vietnamese had attempted murder charges dismissed and then disappeared at the same time an American POW was repatriated. Anyone could see what had happened, but McGarrett never been able get at the truth. _The closest I could come was an "I can neither confirm nor deny" from my contacts in Washington, which probably meant that I was right on the money; Ki was exchanged for Rockwell._

_Magnum was involved in every one of those incidents, and every time Greene refused to say a word about the case to Five-0,_ thought McGarrett. _Why is he so interested in working together now? What does he need?_

Greene's face reddened as he pursed his lips and stared at the ground. "I have two Marines selling guns to arms dealers. Asians, we think. The deals go down off-base, out in town, in your jurisdiction."

McGarrett stifled a satisfied smile. Having the Commanding Officer of NIA come hat-in-hand to Five-0 was a particularly rewarding occurrence, and he wanted to savor every minute of watching Buck Greene squirm. "I see... So what you're saying is, like it or not, you're stuck working with me if you want to nail those Marines." McGarrett suppressed another grin as he watched Greene's jaw muscles tense, and he wondered if the colonel knew his lip had actually curled in disgust.

"It would appear so, Commander."

"I'm retired, Colonel. 'Mister' will do just fine." _And out here, you don't outrank me, you son of a bitch._ "You just remember that the State of Hawaii is _my_ jurisdiction. No cowboy tactics. We play it by the book. _My_ book. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it, _Mister_ McGarrett. But you remember that this is a military investigation, and that's _my_ jurisdiction," Greene barked back.

"Not once you step off that base, it's not!"

The two stood nose to nose, glaring at each other like male wolves vying for leadership of the pack; their eyes like steel, their postures stiff. If they'd _had_ hackles, they would have been standing up straight.

"Don't push me, colonel," McGarrett threatened quietly, ominously. "I'm in charge out here, and don't you forget it." Greene's lips twitched into a thin, fleeting, humorless half-smile as he took a small step backwards, grudgingly acknowledging McGarrett's authority... This time... 

_Gotcha. I win this round._ McGarrett kept his face impassive, but he couldn't help crowing inwardly. It wasn't too often that he could claim a victory, even a small one such as this, over the feds. 

"Do you have an inside man?" asked McGarrett. 

"Lieutenant Commander Poole."

McGarrett blinked in amazement. "Poole? _Maggie_ Poole?" he blurted.

"You got a _problem_ with that?" Greene snapped back, squinting at the taller man.

"No," McGarrett grinned, breaking the tension. "Not at all. I just never imagined you'd put a woman undercover. I thought you didn't trust them. I know it bugs the hell out of you that they ever got into the Academy."

"Yeah, well," growled Greene, "all you Academy pukes bug the hell out of me. Bunch of prima donnas..." He gazed out toward the sunrise and returned to the original topic. "I'll want those two Marines back for court martial."

McGarrett didn't necessarily like that idea, but it seemed a small price to pay. "Okay, deal. But I get _everything_ you have." McGarrett stabbed his index finger towards Greene's face. "You hold out on me, and when I catch them, and I _will_, I'll keep them."

Greene nodded his acquiescence. By now their progress had taken them to McGarrett's front door. "I'd ask you in, but, ah..." the dark haired man smiled and lifted his hands with a self-conscious shrug.

"But you have company," finished Greene with a satisfied smirk. It wasn't often that anyone caught the human side of this very private man.

McGarrett's smile broadened. "Coffee, in my office? Two hours?"

"I'll be there," confirmed the colonel, turning away.

_Will wonders never cease,_ thought McGarrett, shaking his head in amazement as he turned the knob and pushed open the door.

*******

Thomas Magnum plunked himself down in a chair, tipped his beer back and enjoyed a long, cold swallow. "Whew!" he exclaimed. "Who knew hide and seek could take so much effort?" he chuckled.

"You're gettin' outta shape, boy," laughed TC. "Gettin' old!"

"Am not!" protested Magnum loudly. His face widened into a smile as he watched Lily continue the game with TC's daughter, Melody. As had become their custom over the last few months, Rick, TC and their families often joined Thomas and Lily at the estate for a quiet afternoon spent swimming, playing tennis, and talking. And playing hide and seek, of course...

"Lily's a wonderful little girl, Thomas," commented TC's wife, Tina, with a smile.

"Thanks for coming over and bringing Melody to play, you guys. Lily doesn't have too many friends yet."

"You know we love coming over here, TM," said TC. "Little different that what we _used_ to do on Saturday afternoons, but that's okay," he chuckled.

"Yeah, TC, no more strip clubs now that you and Tina are together again," kidded Rick.

"Rick!" TC threw a towel at him.

Rick's wife Cleo and Jonathan Higgins appeared carrying lemonade and cookies.

"Girls!" called Cleo. "Want a snack?" Lily and Melody came running to the lanai as Cleo poured lemonade into ice-filled glasses. "Finish up quickly and we'll go for a swim." The two girls responded with delighted squeals.

"Thanks again for letting us all get together here, Higgins," Magnum commented softly as he collected cookies for the girls.

"Lily needs her friends around her," Higgins responded. "As do you." He looked the taller man in the eye and turned to the others before an astonished Magnum could reply.

_Life sure is different from what it was when Rick, TC, and I were all single,_ thought Magnum. Rick had finally managed to utter an "I do" in May and marry Cleo. Just last month TC and Tina had remarried after almost ten years apart. And while Thomas had to admit to the echoing, ghostly image of the long-dead Tyler Peabody McKinney that he sometimes missed "the action," he was enjoying every minute of his new role as a doting father.

"Not like it used to be, is it?" TC commented.

"Huh?" Magnum jumped, not realizing that he had been quite so lost in thought. 

"I _said_, our lives aren't like they used to be, are they?" TC repeated. "You okay, TM?" he asked, becoming a little concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine" Thomas responded with a smile, attempting to shake off the odd, uneasy feeling that had settled over him. "You're right, it's not like it used to be," he continued, hugging Lily, "but I kinda like it this way, too."

*******

For 'Anna' and Minh, Saturday night had been much the same as Friday; drinking, dancing, and talking for hours. He seemed quite taken with her. As they sat close together in a booth, sipping mai tais, Maggie felt Minh's hand come to rest on her thigh. Her heart began to pound. "Anna," he purred in her ear, "I'd like to get to know you much, much better."

'Anna' cuddled against him. "I'd like that too, but aren't we moving just a _little_ fast?" she asked with a coy smile.

"For you, I'll wait," he cooed, and kissed her lightly on the lips. _I know I won't have to wait long..._ "My boss has a beautiful private yacht. We're taking it out tomorrow to enjoy a day on the water, and I'm sure it would be fine if you came along." _And once I've got you out there alone..._

"That sounds wonderful!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. _Perfect... That didn't take too long..._

They sat and talked until after midnight, when Minh walked 'Anna' to her car. He stared into her eyes, took her face in his hands, and kissed her deeply and thoroughly. "Good night, Anna." 

"Good night, Minh," 'Anna' replied with a warm smile as she climbed into her car. 

"I'll pick you up at ten tomorrow." She nodded. He leaned through the window and kissed her again before she drove slowly away.

A quick phone call from 'Anna's' apartment to the private number the admiral had provided ensured that at least one person knew where Maggie would be the next day. Hawkes was delighted to hear that she'd had success so quickly. "I'll look forward to your report when you return," he said. "And Maggie," he added in a somber voice, "be careful." 

"Always, sir," she responded. She hung up the phone and tried, with little success, to get some sleep.

*******

Minh picked 'Anna' up as promised on Sunday morning and drove to Ala Wai Marina, where they walked down the dock toward a spectacular motor yacht. 

"What a beautiful yacht!" she gushed. The enthusiasm wasn't an act; Maggie loved boats. _People died to pay for this thing,_ she reminded herself solemnly. They boarded, and shortly thereafter the yacht pulled away from the dock and motored slowly out into the ocean. Maggie could see that they were heading west, cruising slowly along the coast. 

It was a beautiful day, and by the time they rounded Barbers Point, everyone was stretched out in lawn chairs and loungers, enjoying the sun. Drinks flowed freely, food was plentiful, and Maggie imagined she could get very used to this lifestyle, except that she was acutely aware of why she was here and the danger involved if she were exposed. She was also uncomfortably conscious of the fact that she seemed to be the only female aboard. Minh spent the afternoon serving Maggie drinks and sunning himself in a chair pulled up close to hers. Late in the afternoon, he stepped behind her and began to massage her neck and shoulders. "Mmmm, that feels good," she murmured.

One of the other men caught Minh's eye and motioned toward the main saloon. "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere" he ordered good-naturedly.

"What?" demanded a thoroughly annoyed Minh as the men reached the main salon.

The other man shook his head briefly. "Not today, man," he said quietly. "Boss says no one below today."

"What?? Why?!" exploded Minh in a frustrated whisper. He'd been so _close!_ They always took girls to a cabin for a little fun. Why not today??

The other man shrugged. "Dunno. Those were his orders when he came aboard. He went to his stateroom and we haven't seen him since."

"Damn it!!" exclaimed Minh in the same low, intense voice. But everyone knew better than to defy the boss. Minh would have to wait just a few more hours, until he could take the girl home. He pasted a smile on his face and rejoined the others on deck.

*******

Buck Greene and a middle-aged Asian man spent the afternoon negotiating a series of weapons deals. The colonel freshened their drinks at the bar across the room, handed one glass to his companion and commented, "I also understand you have a rather, ah, _large_ shipment you're planning to move."

The Asian eyed the colonel warily. "Perhaps."

"Let's cut the bullshit, Vanh, I know what kind of deal you're trying to negotiate. Not many brokers can handle a shipment of that size. You haven't tried, until now. Why does the customer want that much plastic explosive all at once?"

The other man's face darkened. "I never ask why ... it's bad for business."

"Aren't you afraid someone will notice a deal that big?"

Vanh's eyes narrowed as he assessed the question and the man asking it. "My sources tell me that American intelligence seems to know there is something going on, but they don't know when, or where, or exactly what."

Greene's eyes also narrowed as he made a final assessment of the man's importance within his organization. "I can keep it that way, and ensure you know everything they know. And I can sell you half again as much C4, cheaper than you're getting it now."

Vanh's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Why? Why should I trust _you_?" 

"Money," replied Greene with a sinister smile. "It's very simple. I plan to retire in luxury -- somewhere in South America. Protecting a couple of your little transactions and providing merchandise for a couple more could make that possible in the very near future."

"What if I'm already getting all the information I need?"

Greene grinned. "You're not. You don't have a source. If you did, your shipment wouldn't have been intercepted last night."

Vanh snapped his head around sharply to stare at Greene. "Yes, Five-0 arrested two of our suppliers and confiscated a shipment," he confirmed curtly. 

"I know they arrested Sergeant Smith and Corporal Thompson," said Greene with a sly smile. "I gave them the 'anonymous' tip myself."

"_What??_ You _let_ Five-0 intercept a shipment?!" Vanh's face had turned a deep red.

Greene chuckled at his companion's fury. "Sure, throw the locals a bone every so often. Let 'em snag a shipment or two. Consider it part of the cost of doing business. Keeps them happy, and they don't look as hard for the big deals."

The skeptical criminal squinted at Greene. "You know McGarrett better than that..."

"Don't worry about McGarrett," the colonel responded airily, sweeping a dismissive hand through the air. "I can keep him out of our way." Greene chuckled. "He thinks I'm working with him; I can feed him whatever I want." The colonel's face sobered. "And the information I give _you_ will ensure that you and he _never_ cross paths..."

"I could kill you now," growled Vanh.

"You could," agreed Greene with a quick nod, "but I'm not the only one who knows about your routes and contacts. I _am_, however, the only one offering to solve your problem." He paused and smiled broadly. "I'm your new supplier. I'm also the one with access to the information that will keep you from failing, and keep you alive." The colonel saw the other man flinch; he was afraid of something, or someone. _And that someone is the guy I wanna cut the deal with._

"Do you take me for a fool?" Vanh demanded angrily. "I have no intention of sharing my plans with you. You've made it perfectly clear in the past how you feel about my countrymen."

Knowing he had hit a nerve, Greene pressed his advantage. "Old enemies can become allies, Vanh. This is strictly business." He paused, smiled, and abruptly changed the subject. "Didn't Minh bring a guest today?"

"Yes," replied the other, perplexed by the sudden change of topic.

Greene rose from his seat, his face widening into a grin. "Well then, by all means, let's be sociable and go meet the young lady. I think you'll find her mighty interesting."

*******

As the afternoon wore on, Maggie began to doubt that she would meet anyone of particular importance today. It was after five, and although she had heard whispers about "The Boss" being aboard, she hadn't seen anyone of that stature appear on deck. 

The small group was now seated around a table filled with hors d'oeuvres and drinks. Maggie almost fell out of her chair when Buck Greene emerged from the main saloon accompanied by an Asian man in his mid-forties and two other large, hulking men. _What the hell? What's he doing here??_ She managed to contain her astonishment and look at Buck with all the interest due a new boyfriend's boss. A ripple of unease washed over her as she noticed the Asian looked her over very carefully. He was the "middleman" in the pictures the admiral had shown her. _Maybe it is a good thing that Buck's here..._

"And who have we here?" Buck asked Minh.

"Sir, this is my friend, Anna Walsh," the young man stammered.

"Very nice to meet you, Anna." Buck extended his hand and Maggie shook it briefly.

"Nice to meet you too," she responded. _Let him take the lead..._

Maggie's sense of unease deepened rapidly as Buck began to chuckle. Suddenly he erupted in a deep belly laugh. "Anna Walsh. Is that what she told you her name was??" Buck looked around at Minh before returning his gaze to Maggie. "Is that what you told them?" he chuckled again. 

_What's going on?? _she thought wildly._ I thought I was out here without backup! Is he blowing my cover to protect his own??_

"Allow _me_ to introduce myself," he smirked. "My name is Buck Greene... _Colonel_ Buck Greene." Maggie's heart began to pound and the smile she had pasted on her face disappeared.

"Yes, they _know_ who I am," he informed her. "Gentlemen, allow me to introduce your guest. Her name is Maggie Poole. _Lieutenant Commander_ Maggie Poole. She's an intelligence officer at Pearl Harbor. She works for me." His expression was now cold and hard.

_Holy shit! He doesn't even have a cover._ As adrenaline poured through her, Maggie fought to stay calm. She found it impossible to get her mind around the notion that Buck Greene was involved in dealing weapons, but the evidence was mounting, and Maggie was no longer at all sure which side Buck was on. Heart racing, she slowly reached behind her for the gun she had stashed in her beach bag, but one of the large men accompanying Greene caught the movement and grabbed her arm, twisting it painfully up behind her back as he lifted her out of her chair. 

"Awfully big gun for a little girl," Greene sneered as he relieved her of the .45. 

What happened next scared Maggie more than any of Buck's recent bizarre behavior. She jumped, badly startled, as she felt Buck grab her rear end. "I always said you had a pretty little ass, Maggie," he smirked. Though the sun was hot, a shiver ran through her and a cold sweat began to trickle down her face and back, and saturate her clothes. Buck was putting on a very good act. She hoped...

Greene looked off into the distance for a few moments, then turned and contemplated his captive. She struggled briefly, but the two men now holding her had her completely overpowered. "Going on leave, huh, Maggie? You don't think I'm _that_ stupid, do you?" Maggie remained silent, glaring at him. "Just whose operation do you think this is?" Buck smiled broadly, but the smile never reached his eyes. "Mine. This beautiful multi-million dollar yacht?" He made a sweeping gesture toward the superstructure. "Mine, too." A scowl replaced the smile. "Takes a lot of money and some very savvy lawyers and accountants to pull this off, and I'm damn sure not gonna let some goody-two-shoes like _you_ ruin it for me. It's real simple. They want weapons. I sell them weapons. I make _lots_ of money."

_This doesn't look like an act,_ Maggie told herself shakily. _Can't let him see I'm scared._ "And just how do they avoid getting caught?" she asked icily.

Greene smirked. "Smart girl. I give them the information they need to avoid the, ah, _authorities_."

"Classified information," she continued, her voice flat.

"_Brilliant_ deduction." 

"That's treason," she spat, her eyes narrowing.

"Oooo, such an ugly word..." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "I was never gonna get rich working for the government, and this little side business of mine is gonna set me up for a nice, comfortable retirement."

_"Traitor!"_

Greene chuckled. "You know, Maggie, everyone knows you have a bad habit of swimming alone on deserted beaches. In fact, right now your ID card and clothes are sitting on Waimanalo Beach, where I'm sure someone will eventually find them. But they'll never find you..." He lifted her chin so her eyes met his. She jerked her head away. 

"Why _are_ you here?" he continued. "To get a look at this operation? But you didn't know it was _my_ operation, did you?" Buck leaned in close to Maggie. "Or were you _really_ interested in sleeping with Minh?" he whispered in her ear.

Greene glanced over his shoulder at the criminal. "She turns you on, doesn't she? Isn't that why you brought her here?" Something in the colonel's tone made Maggie's skin crawl. Greene walked the few steps over to the shorter Asian and leaned close to him. "You still want her?" the colonel asked conspiratorially. The other man grinned salaciously, openly undressing the girl with his eyes, and nodded in anticipation. There had been other girls aboard this yacht. Prostitutes, usually, well paid for their performances and their silence. 

Greene's smile abruptly disappeared as he slugged Minh hard across the face, dropping him to the deck. "Don't you _ever_ bring anyone aboard this boat without clearing it through me first, or I'll kill you. You got that?" The look on his face said he meant it. Minh, his nose bloodied and eyes wide, nodded as he frantically scuttled backwards away from his attacker.

Vanh sauntered to Maggie's side and slowly looked her up and down. He brushed his fingers across her cheek; she jerked away. His eyes narrowed as he grabbed one of her breasts and squeezed hard. She struggled to pull away, but was held fast by the two large henchmen. "You're right, colonel, I do find this lovely bitch 'interesting'. You work with her every day, and you have never taken her? Why not?" he inquired in heavily accented English. "Let me show you how we treat women where I come from," he chuckled evilly, his breathing quickening in anticipation. With a practiced hand motion, he signaled the two men, who forced Maggie to her knees. Vanh grabbed her roughly by a handful of hair and crushed her face to his crotch.

_How far is Buck going to let this go?_ A sickening feeling spread through the pit of Maggie's stomach as Vanh rubbed himself roughly against her cheek, his erection growing rapidly. _I can't say the admiral didn't warn me... Is Buck on my side? Or not...?_

Vanh moaned softly and reached for his zipper. Buck stepped forward and grabbed the man's arm with a quiet chuckle. "Sorry Vanh. You know I don't usually participate in these little, ah, games of yours. But I've been waiting for this opportunity for a long, long time."

A look of immense disappointment crossed Vanh's face as he stepped away from Maggie. Greene motioned, and Maggie was pulled back to her feet. _Thank God, he stopped it. He is still on the right side. It's an act._ She was breathing hard and weak with relief, but she still didn't particularly like the look on the colonel's face. 

Buck caressed the line of Maggie's jaw; her blood ran cold. His eyes were dead, expressionless. She stiffened as a humorless, leering smile spread across his face and his hand continued down, traced along her neck and then slowly circled each of her breasts. _Don't let him get to you!! This is no worse than what they did to us at survival school. It's an act ... it has to be ... but it's a very convincing one._

Buck grabbed her face roughly in both hands and forced her to look at him. "You should have left it alone," he hissed. He dropped his mouth to hers and kissed her hard, crushing his lips down on hers. She struggled in vain. Still holding her head immobile, he pulled his face away and smirked. 

"You know you want me, Maggie," he taunted. "You've wanted me since the first time you laid eyes on me."

Maggie returned his stare with a look of pure hatred. "Don't flatter yourself," she spat back, the relief she had felt just moments ago now completely gone.

Greene's breathing quickened as he again grabbed her head in both hands and pressed his mouth violently down on hers. He jammed his thumbs hard into her face, forced her mouth open, and roughly shoved his tongue down her throat. He lifted his mouth from hers, reached behind her, and gently released her hair from its ponytail, letting it fall freely over her shoulders and running his fingers through it. "I prefer your hair loose," he whispered huskily. For one fleeting moment, she thought she saw something akin to tenderness soften his eyes. Almost as if... _No!_ she screamed to herself, _It's not 'almost as if' anything._ She shuddered and closed her eyes.

"Look at me, Maggie," he murmured. She ignored him. "Look at me," he snarled, grabbing a handful of her hair and jerking her head back. She opened her eyes; her knees wobbled at the look on his face. "_You,_" he growled in triumph, "are **_mine_**." 

He held her hair tightly and kissed her again, his free hand finding its way to her breasts... her buttocks... She tried to kick away, but her face contorted as her right arm was once again twisted painfully up behind her by one of Greene's goons. When Greene finally pulled away from her, she glared at him with unadulterated hatred and spit full in his face.

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and slowly wiped the spittle from his cheek. "You know," he chuckled menacingly, carefully replacing the cloth in his back pocket, "I'm _really_ going to enjoy this." 

With a sudden, murderous look, Greene slammed a fist into Maggie's solar plexus. Air was forced from her lungs in a great _whoosh_ just as his next blow connected with a sickening _crack_ to her ribs. He backhanded her hard across the face. At his signal, the men released her and she sagged to her knees, hugging her arms around her damaged ribs and trying to catch her breath. She glanced up at Greene and saw only cold precision in his eyes.

The colonel continued the attack, kicking her hard across the left side of her head and face, sending her flying sideways. Unable to raise her hands in time, she slammed face first into the metal ladder leading to the fly bridge, opening a deep gash over her right eye. She crumpled to the deck, dazed, and lay willing the fog to lift. She struggled to her knees, grabbing a ladder rung to pull herself up, much like a boxer clutching the ropes in a desperate attempt to avoid falling to the canvas. 

"Why don't you just stay down there, bitch?" Buck's taunt rang in her ears, making all the more necessary the effort to get to her feet.

Suddenly, there were fresh waves of pain as Greene grabbed her by her hair and the front of her shirt, jerked her to her feet, and slammed her backwards against the nearby bulkhead. Her face twisted as she tried to catch her breath and blink blood out of her eyes. Her injuries weren't serious, but were painful enough to keep her off balance and out of focus. It was all she could do to command her trembling legs to hold her up.

Maggie did her best to keep fear from her eyes as Buck loomed over her. With one quick motion, he ripped her shirt open, sending buttons flying, and leered appreciatively at her bare chest as he pushed the shirt back over her shoulders. 

"I knew you didn't have anything on under there," he whispered enthusiastically, jerking the shirt down over her arms and off. He grabbed her by both breasts and pushed her back against the bulkhead. "Mmmmm, nice," he murmured, staring at her breasts as he kneaded them roughly. "You know what turns_ me_ on?" he drawled silkily. "Violence... Blood..." A sinister smile spread over his face. "Pain..." He suddenly reached behind her and sunk his fingernails into her back, digging long, bloody furrows in her skin. 

"_Uhhhhhh__,_" she cried, instinctively arching her back to escape the fiery sting spreading across it. The unfortunate effect was to throw herself forward against Greene. Bile rose in her throat as she felt his erection straining at his trousers. It was now sickeningly clear that this was no act on Buck Greene's part. 

Buck wrapped his arms tightly around her, his loathsome grin widening as he delicately fingered the bruises and cuts on her face. He pulled her head back, and lightly kissed the gash on her forehead, smearing her blood on his lips. Then he kissed her very gently on the lips. The incongruous, counterfeit tenderness made her shiver. 

"You like the taste of your own blood, Maggie?" he panted, the bulge at this crotch now pressing hard against her. A cold tendril of icy fear snaked its way through her chest. _He's insane,_ she thought with a panicked shudder, _completely and utterly insane._

Maggie's head had begun to clear, the world had slowed its spinning, and she resumed her efforts to free herself with an attempt at kneeing Greene in the groin. He sidestepped her easily, and punched her hard across the face. Her eyes glazed over as she slid slowly down the bulkhead and toppled sideways to the deck. "I think I'll make this a private party," he chuckled, standing over her as she lifted herself up on one elbow and shook her head in a vain attempt to clear it. "Take her below, and tie her hands in front of her," he directed.

As two men pulled the woman to her feet and dragged her below, Greene stepped to the bar inside the main salon, poured himself a healthy quantity of scotch, and swallowed it in one gulp. He looked around at the others with a wolfish grin. "Gentlemen, do some fishing. Drink... Eat... Enjoy the evening. I will." He smirked and stepped below to his lavish owner's stateroom.

Buck conducted a thorough, deliberate, visual sweep of the room, his gaze finally coming to rest on a battered, blood-spattered Maggie, her hands now tied, pinioned between the two men who had dragged her below. He stepped over to her and slowly inspected her half-naked body with undisguised lust burning in his eyes. A sharp sideways jerk of Greene's head dismissed the other men. They released Maggie with knowing smirks and departed. She weaved unsteadily and faced her captor. 

_Maybe, just maybe..._ "Buck," she whispered hoarsely, "please tell me this is an act, that you have a plan..."

"I have a plan," Greene replied tersely. Just as Maggie began to sag with relief, he suddenly slapped her hard across the face, knocking her backwards onto the bed. "I plan an evening of pure pleasure." Her blood turned to ice water. "I told you to stay away from me," he growled. "I'm a violent man." 

_Oh, my God... Buck's not putting on a show. This is for real!_

He knelt beside her on the bed and reached for the waistband of her shorts. When she tried to scramble away, his hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat, pressing down hard against the arteries on either side of her neck until blood roared in her ears and the edges of her vision grayed. She was able to hear him, distantly, and able to feel his touch, but she was no longer able to move. 

"Do you like feeling helpless? I _love_ seeing you helpless," he panted. The look of demented expectation on his face made her stomach lurch. With the index finger of his free hand, he traced a meandering path around first one breast, then the other, then slowly ran his hand across her abdomen and under her shorts. "Maggie," he murmured, "we're gonna have such a great time." He chuckled to himself, his warm baritone voice contrasting sharply with the ugly implication of the words. Even half-conscious, Maggie recoiled in horror; this could **_not_** be happening. 

Buck continued to paw at her as he dropped his mouth to her breast, slowly circling her nipple with his tongue. His eyes flashed with want and he groaned greedily as he opened his mouth wide. He felt her twitch slightly under him in a useless effort at escape. He knew just how much pressure to apply to her neck to keep her semi-conscious and unable to move, but completely, hideously aware of what was happening to her.

Finally, Greene sat up and released his hold on Maggie's neck. He continued to idly grope her breasts, watching dispassionately as she returned to full consciousness, horror building in her eyes. Then, just for an instant, his eyes again lost their steely glare and melted into pools of liquid blue. _Regret? Am I seeing regret?? _thought Maggie.

Taking advantage of Greene's momentary lack of attention, Maggie tried to quickly roll away from him. In another violent change of mood, he growled, yanked her up off the bed, and slammed her backwards against a nearby wardrobe. With one smooth movement, he grabbed the front of her underwear and thin running shorts, twisting and wrenching violently. Maggie's feet left the floor as he pulled upward, the clothing digging painfully into her as her weight bore down on it. She dropped back to the floor as her clothes came away with a loud _rip_ and were dragged roughly from between her legs. 

_Why?? Why is he doing this?_ she thought in terror. _Have to get away... But how? Think!_

Greene flung the shredded clothing aside and pressed himself against her, pinning her hands between their bodies. He grabbed her jaw in a brutal grip, jammed her head back against the wardrobe, and hissed maliciously in her face, "Before this day is over, _bitch_, you're gonna wish you had listened to me, and stayed away. I am going to _fuck_ you like you have never been _fucked_ before." 

Though his whisper was vicious, Buck's eyes had taken on such a vacant, faraway stare that Maggie wondered if he realized he had spoken aloud. _Dear God... He really is insane..._

Greene's breathing quickened as he held her head immobile and locked his lips to hers. When Maggie continued to fight wildly, he wrapped both arms tightly around her. _Shit, _she thought, her eyes widening in panic,_ he's too strong. I can't get away!_ She could manage only muffled cries as he brutally dug his fingers into her back, her buttocks, her legs, every touch leaving a mark as he gouged at her flesh. Panting with excitement, he trailed a string of bruising kisses down her neck.

Maggie's hands were trapped between their bodies, but not completely immobilized. _Just... reach... a little farther..._

Greene let out a surprised grunt as her fingers grazed over his fly and very nearly found purchase on their target. He jerked back and abruptly spun her around, pulled her back tight against him and restrained her with one hand. "No you don't, slut, only I get to play today," he breathed in her ear. "I knew you'd fight me, but you're going to _pay_ for that." She yelped as he grabbed one of her nipples, pinching and twisting cruelly.

"You'll never get away with this, you filthy pig!" she spat, struggling to break his hold on her. 

"And why is that?" he murmured as he kissed the back of her neck.

Her heart was hammering so hard it felt like it might jump out of her chest. She played the one card she had. "The admiral knows I'm here." 

"Yes, I know he does," Greene chuckled. "And _he's_ certainly never going to tell anyone."

Maggie froze, so completely stunned that she stopped struggling. _The admiral is the only one who knows I'm here. He sent me here. If he and Buck are working together... And if Buck's not acting..._

"You see," Buck murmured as he worked his way across Maggie's upper back, nibbling gently with his teeth, "I have all the angles covered. No one is going to worry about where you are." 

_What now?!_ she wondered numbly. The answer came a moment later when he sunk his teeth deep into her shoulder, drawing blood. "Pain, Maggie... Pain makes me wild..." he panted as she cried out yet again, the new injury throbbing cruelly.

His breath ragged in his throat, Greene ground his hips against her. Maggie sucked in a sharp breath as he pulled her hips back against him. "I think I'll take you from behind, Maggie ... the _first_ time. Or maybe the second, or the third. What do you think about that?" he crooned. "We're gonna to have a long, busy evening, you and I. Get to know each other _real_ well." 

_Oh, my God... Nooo..._ Her breath caught in her throat as Buck's right hand shifted downward. 

His voice hardened. "Let the games begin." 

Buck ran his fingers lightly along Maggie's inner thigh, then suddenly seized a handful of skin and flesh and squeezed viciously, forcing another pain-filled cry. She grunted in protest and unsuccessfully strained to avoid his hand as it moved again. After a few more moments, his fingers hovered. She froze. 

_Nothing I can do. Can't stop him. Never felt this helpless... Never..._

"Now?" he hissed in her ear. His fingers stopped moving. She waited, immobilized in horror. "No," he chuckled, pulling his hand away. "I have other plans."

Greene slammed Maggie forward against a nearby table, doubling her over its edge with her arms stretched out in front of her and his upper body on top of hers. She gasped as pain from her injured ribs shot through her chest and the sharp edge of the table scraped skin from her abdomen. 

Greene continued his chilling commentary. "That boyfriend of yours ever _fuck_ you from behind? Hmmm?" he chortled evilly, punctuating his words with another sharp forward thrust of his hips. 

_"He made **love** to me, you son of a bitch,"_ Maggie shouted raggedly. A fresh surge of adrenaline poured through her; she thrashed against him, every muscle taut, eyes wide, heart pounding. Greene chuckled evilly, restraining her without much effort. 

"If you keep fighting me, I'm just going to hurt you that much more," he whispered in her ear. She gasped in horror as he hooked one foot around the inside of each of her ankles and forced her legs wide apart. 

_God, no... He wouldn't... He can't... Supposed to be on my side... No!!_

She could smell her own scent on his hand as he caressed her cheek; her stomach rolled with nausea. "Ready, Maggie? You're _really_ going to enjoy this..." She tried, but failed to keep terror and revulsion from washing over her, even as she continued her desperate struggle to break free. "Mmmmm," he murmured, brushing her hair aside and leaning forward to inhale deeply at the base of her neck. "Fear... I love the smell of fear," he whispered eagerly as he reached down between them and slid open his zipper.

_Can't fight him... Can't move..._ She was completely immobile; his weight pressing her tightly against the table, each of his legs locking one of hers in place, his left hand clamped down on her outstretched arms. _Shit, _she thought, her breath now coming in shallow, sobbing gasps,_ he's really gonna rape me..._ His face was just a few inches above her head. _Unless..._

**_Now!!_** Maggie coiled herself, then slammed her head up and back as hard as she could, feeling a satisfying _splat _as the back of her head connected with Greene's face. He howled in surprise and pain, loosening his grip enough that she was able to whirl around and deliver a punishing blow to his jaw with the back of her elbow. 

With Greene dazed and shaking his head in an attempt to clear it, Maggie ran for the door. No, there was nowhere to go, but pure instinct had taken over. She wanted nothing more than to escape this maniac, even if it meant diving into the ocean more than a mile offshore and taking her chances swimming. 

Maggie made it halfway through the main salon before Greene brought her down from behind, the two of them crashing to the deck, sliding and tumbling to the far bulkhead in a tangled heap of arms and legs. Enraged, Greene leaped to his feet, grabbed Maggie by the hair and dragged her to the middle of the room, where he slammed her down on her back and kneeled to straddle her.

"You _bitch!_" He smashed a fist across her face. "I was gonna make this private; you want an audience? _Fine,_" he snarled, swiping savagely at the blood dripping from his reddened nose and split lip. "We were gonna have some fun, but _nooo_, you had to try to get away. Now, I'm gonna _hurt_ you!" 

The assault continued in earnest on the expensive teak flooring of the bright, airy room. There was a murderous gleam in his eye as he beat her, slamming her head first to one side, then the other with one punch after another. She fought wildly, her strength now born of sheer terror. He tried to spread her legs, but she twisted and turned, locking her ankles together, kicking her legs and thrashing wildly at Greene with her bound arms. 

_Never let you win! You'll have to kill me... Never surrender to you... Never!_ Maggie's damaged ribs sent knives of hot pain slicing through her as she struggled, and her senses dulled a bit more with each of Greene's punishing blows. It was a short scuffle. She had managed to deflect some of his punches, but he was bigger and stronger, and she was hopelessly overpowered. Her struggles served only to arouse him all the more. 

"I knew you'd fight, Maggie," he repeated. "Go ahead, fight harder. I love fighters." His voice was ragged with excitement as he held her arms immobile with one hand, wrapped his other hand around her throat and began to squeeze.

Maggie hadn't bothered to waste energy screaming; there was no one to hear. _No, no, no!!!_ she shouted to herself. Even as the beating took its toll and her senses began to fade, she kept it up: _Keep fighting! Keep kicking! Don't let him win!_

But now she was out of time. The colonel had cut off her air supply; she would be unconscious in just a few more moments. With a burst of near-superhuman strength, Maggie managed to free her bound hands from Greene's iron grip just long enough to reach up between them and rake her nails across his face, leaving bloody gouges. He howled in pain, grabbed her by the shoulders, lifted her up and slammed her back to the floor, whacking her head against the wood with a resounding _crack._ Pain exploded through her skull and starburst of impossibly white light flared behind her eyes. Conscious thought all but escaped her as she tumbled into a shadowy gray abyss. 

Maggie was helpless to resist as she felt Greene shove her legs wide apart, lift her knees, and pin her bound hands to the floor behind her head with one hand while he hurriedly freed himself from his pants with the other. 

Maggie made one last, feeble attempt to defend herself, but her arms and legs were no longer her own. They felt leaden, heavy; she was unable to control their movements. Her thoughts tumbled over one another in a chaotic jumble. _Wrong about Buck. Never liked him, but never thought... Not this... Supposed to be on my side... Noooo!!! _She stifled the anguished sob that rose in her throat, closed her eyes, and tried to remove herself from the horrifying reality of the situation.

From far away, a deep voice ordered, "Open your eyes!" Maggie ignored it; it was an enemy voice. There was the _click_ of a switchblade, and the press of sharp metal against her neck. 

_"Open your eyes!"_ Greene ordered again, "or I'll cut your throat out." She momentarily considered whether a quick death might not be preferable, but then did as he commanded, and looked into the eyes of a madman, all at once cold as steel and wild with mania. 

"I want you to watch me while I take whatever I want from you," he hissed, his malevolent sneer hovering just inches above her face.

Maggie shook with real, cold fear. This was not a game, or a survival school exercise, or even, any longer, an undercover assignment. She was going to die here, and at the hand of a man whom she had come to respect as an officer, if not a friend. Drawing in one, ragged breath, she finally pleaded, "Buck ... please ... _don't_..."

A tortured, twisted expression of complete shock, staggering pain, and the anguish of utter betrayal painted itself across Maggie Poole's face as Buck Greene smiled gruesomely ... and rammed himself inside her...

Maggie wasn't a virgin; the act itself wasn't entirely shattering. But the pain of forced entry was appalling in its intensity, and the astonishing sense of violation shook her to her core.

One raw, guttural cry ripped from Maggie's throat. She snapped her eyes shut and turned her head far to one side. Greene paused. "Does it hurt, Maggie?" his oily voice cooed in her ear. He pulled back and slammed against her again, hard enough to produce an audible _thud_ and elicit an involuntary grunt from Maggie. "Because I _want_ you to scream for me... _Thud. _ I've _fantasized_ about making you scream with pleasure... _Thud._ But I'll _settle_... _Thud._ For _screaming..._" 

Maggie clenched her teeth, resolving not to make another sound, as a mental survival switch kicked over in her brain. _Odd what you notice_, she thought, with a bizarre sense of detachment. _Buck hasn't shaved_. The stubble on his chin scraped her face roughly as he moved against her. Although the attack proceeded with almost lightning swiftness, Maggie would remember everything moving in agonizing slow motion, as though time had been suspended to ensure she didn't miss a single moment of the experience. A kaleidoscope of horrifying sensations enveloped her: Greene's weight pressing down on her, his grip on her arms, the odor of alcohol on his breath, the starched material of his trousers scraping across her skin as something hard in his pocket slammed painfully against her bruised inner thigh. She was exquisitely aware of every hideous detail as he silently turned his attention to his own wants. _God, make him stop... Please... **Hurts**... **Aggghhhh**..._

Tears spilled involuntarily from the corners of her eyes as pain overwhelmed her. She felt as though she might split apart as he continued the attack, each violent thrust harder and faster than the last, his warm breath panting against her cheek, sweat and blood dripping from his face on to hers. Every brutal collision of his body with hers ground her hips and mutilated back painfully against the hard wood beneath her and jostled her hard enough to cause agonizing spikes of pain to radiate from the impressive lump on the back of her head.

She felt hollow, numb, drained. There was no longer any fear, any terror, any anger. She was devoid of all emotion save the scorching, searing anguish of betrayal. She _knew_ him. She'd **_trusted_** him... The treachery was palpable, like acid dripping down the walls of her empty heart. _betrayed ... BETRAYED ... **BETRAYED**... _It thundered through her being, echoing and reverberating in a deafening crescendo of raw savagery, stronger and more powerful than any physical assault could ever be. _Betrayed ..._ a fiendish voice whispered it heartlessly in the frozen recesses of her soul. She clamped her eyes shut, detached herself from reality and tried again to escape to a place where there was no pain, no shock, no agony of the spirit.

The surrounding thugs watched the attack in uncharacteristic silence, the catcalls and shouts of encouragement that usually accompanied such an event conspicuously lacking. They had heard stories about Greene's propensity for sadistic violence, but none had ever witnessed the results first hand. They all enjoyed watching a good screwing; it was one of their favorite activities aboard this yacht, but this level of cruelty turned even _their_ hardened stomachs.

To Maggie, Greene's frenzied pounding seemed to last an eternity, finally culminating in deep groans of animal satisfaction, a shuddering climax, and a flood of hot fluid. As suddenly as the assault had begun, it was over, and he was gone. 

Keeping her eyes tightly closed, Maggie pulled her legs together, rolled to her side and curled into a ball. She gasped softly as pain from injuries bit into her. _You're alright. You're alive. Don't lose it now..._ Her breath came in shuddering, hitching gasps as she tried to gather her thoughts and maintain her sanity, knowing that this would probably not be the only attack of the day. _If he doesn't keep me for himself, he'll let the others have their turn..._

The thought of further violation brought her to the edge of panicked terror. _No! Stop!!_ she silently ordered herself, opening her eyes and staring at the floor. The wood underneath her was real, solid, tangible; she stared at it, forcing herself to deal with real difficulties as they arose, rather than imagined future horrors. There was no room for emotional collapse; if she could keep her wits about her, she might get lucky and be alive at the end of the ordeal. _Survive... Concentrate... Just survive..._

Buck was still breathing hard as he zipped his pants. "Bring her along," he ordered, stepping out into the bright sunshine on the aft deck and stretching his arms languidly over his head with a long sigh and a contented smile. Two men dragged Maggie upright and followed. 

Covered with sweat and blood, Maggie was still gulping for air, trying to control her fear and keep it from her face. Her head was throbbing; pain radiating from myriad bruises and lumps ricocheted wildly through her skull. She was dizzy, woozy, unable to stand. The feel of thick, sticky fluid slipping down her legs nearly caused her to vomit. _Steady... Hang on... Don't let him win..._ She swallowed hard. From somewhere deep inside, she gathered the strength to lock her knees, remain upright on her own, and face Buck Greene. 

Greene retrieved his switchblade from his pocket, snapped it open, and pressed the tip up under Maggie's chin, forcing her to lift her head back and bringing fresh fear to her eyes. She would still have preferred to dive into the ocean, but Greene's two men held her fast. With a crazed gleam in his eye, the colonel traced the knife lightly down her neck and between her breasts, stopping just below her sternum. The fear in her eyes grew to terror as he put just enough pressure on the weapon to penetrate her skin with a soft _pop_ and send a trickle of blood running down her abdomen. With a satisfied chuckle and a quick flick of his wrist, he pulled the weapon away from her torso, sliced through the ropes binding her wrists, and returned the knife to his pocket. 

Greene smiled at her and caressed her cheek in an obscene parody of tenderness. "You were everything I expected," he whispered huskily. Her face twisted with revulsion. With nothing to lose, and everything to gain for her own sanity and satisfaction, she again spat full in his face.

Greene shook his head slowly as he deliberately wiped Maggie's bloody spittle and his own sweat and blood from his face. "Never learn, will you Maggie? Well, I have one more use for you." He pulled a small .22 caliber pistol from his pocket and held it up in front of her. "Unobtrusive little weapon. Takes a silencer, if necessary." He casually checked to see that it was loaded. "But it's the ammunition that I want to demonstrate for our friends. You know what hollow-nosed rounds are, don't you, Maggie? Know what they do? This one makes a tiny little entry wound," he squinted and grimaced, cocking his head to one side, "then shatters inside ... leaves an awful mess," he finished with a sinister smile.

Buck stepped back a few feet and aimed the gun at Maggie. "Hold her nice and still now, boys," he chuckled. 

"Buck, noooo..." she whispered raggedly. 

He sneered. "Goodbye, _Maggie..._" 

A look of pure astonishment appeared on Maggie's face as a small red splotch blossomed on her chest. _Oh, my God,_ she thought, as she felt fire spread through her torso. Her whole body began to tingle. Her lungs felt heavy and thick, as though they were filling with water. The world began to spin out of control. 

"Gentlemen," Buck commented, "that tiny bullet just shredded her lungs." 

Buck's goons released their hold on Maggie's arms. Panic filled her eyes as she staggered forward, pulling in a small, choking gasp, desperately trying to breathe with lungs that no longer functioned. _Can't breathe! Need air!! Why can't I breathe?!!_ A single harsh cough brought a gush of bright red blood flooding from her mouth and nose. 

_My legs... **What's happening?**_ Maggie's legs seemed to have vanished. The sensation was that of slowly melting right into the deck as she sank to her knees, choking and clawing at her chest. Her panicked struggle to suck in even the tiniest breath of air produced nothing more than a series of ineffectual squeaks. Within moments, her arms also lost all feeling. Even the stinging pain in her chest had disappeared. Everything in her rapidly narrowing field of vision turned to shades of gray as Greene continued his commentary. "A fairly quick death, but as the good commander would tell you, if she _could,_ definitely not painless..."

_No... Not this way... Not yet... Not fair..._ Her entire world tilted crazily; the last thing she saw before her vision failed and her eyes rolled back in her head was Greene's cold smile. As darkness swirled around her, Maggie's final thought was of her best friend. _Thomas... Wish I hadn't been angry..._ Then there was no sensation left at all except that of falling -- tumbling over and over into the black nothingness from which she could no longer escape.

Maggie never felt the unforgiving non-skid scrape skin from her face as she crashed lifelessly to the deck at Greene's feet. His face twisted into a malevolent scowl as he lifted his foot and stomped viciously down on her back. There was no movement, no sound from the girl. 

The colonel kicked her motionless body over to lay face up, her blood-soaked hair draped across a colorless face. "Well, go on, check her," he barked. 

One of Vanh's men reached down and felt for a pulse, hardly daring to take his eyes off Greene even for a moment. "Dead," he reported. 

The assembled criminals stared at the rogue colonel with an entirely new measure of fearful respect. Each of them had seen countless vicious attacks in his violent lifetime, but this had been one of the nastiest that any of them had witnessed. Even by their standards, Greene's behavior had been incredibly brutal and sadistic. They waited in uneasy silence for his next move, more certain than ever that this was not a man they wanted to provoke.

Greene dabbed gingerly at his swollen, oozing lip and turned to Vanh. "Now, let's talk business," he remarked, amiably wrapping an arm around the Asian's shoulders and directing him toward the comfortable main salon. Vanh all but flinched at Greene's touch, but allowed himself to be led across the deck. Just before they stepped inside, Greene shouted up to the fly bridge. 

"Hank! Get the engines started. Let's get out of here!" He turned and barked at two wide-eyed deckhands, "Get that garbage off my boat, and clean up the deck." The men dumped Maggie's body overboard, where it floated off face down as the engines came to life and the yacht roared away. Buck Greene never looked back.

One of the deckhands joined Hank on the flybridge as the yacht powered away from the dead girl's body. None of the crew had any desire to be anywhere near their boss, as worked up as he was. "Shit!" muttered the deckhand, staring back at the spot where the body had landed. The corpse had disappeared; in its place was a roiling, swirling maelstrom of frothy red, hideously reflecting the early evening light.

"Sharks," proclaimed Hank with a shudder. "The boss is right. They ain't never gonna find her..."

*******

_The nice thing about the peacetime Navy,_ thought Magnum as he stretched in his desk chair, _is the relative normality. Get up every day and go to work. No one shooting at you. No one threatening you because you asked a few questions. No hoping another client will come along so you can pay the bills. Why did I ever resign?_ He hadn't even completed the thought when the answer washed over him. _Because this is the peacetime Navy... I've also seen the wartime version..._

Magnum was really enjoying his return to the active duty. Despite his previous assignments at NIA, he had retained his designator as a SEAL, and after refresher training he had been assigned to the staff of Commander in Chief, Pacific Fleet, known in Navy parlance as CINCPACFLT. But the sad fact was that he was now too senior for most of the really fun assignments, and the bulk of each day was spent crafting plans for upcoming exercises.

Magnum looked up from the pile of paperwork in front of him and reached for his coffee cup. _God, I hate staff work,_ he grumbled to himself as he rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. He grimaced as he took a long swallow from the cup. _Coffee hasn't improved since I left, either..._ He glanced at the clock._ Damn, it's not even eleven yet._ "Oh what the hell," he muttered. "I'm senior enough to take an early lunch." 

Magnum grabbed his gym bag and walked toward the door, announcing "I'll be at the gym," to the yeoman standing nearby. Before he could make good his escape, however, his phone jangled demandingly.

"I'll get it, sir."

"No!" shouted Magnum, grabbing the other man's arm. "Don't _touch_ that phone!"

"Sir?" The confused petty officer wondered what he had done to anger the commander.

"If it's important, they'll call back," explained Magnum with a smile. "It's time for lunch, and I need a workout before I can handle _any_ more minor crises."

The sailor grinned back. "Understood, sir."

Magnum turned his back on the irritating noise and headed out into the sunshine.

*******

Thomas heard voices when he entered the locker room after a long run. For some reason he was unable to explain, he stopped short out of view behind a bank of lockers and listened. Parts of the conversation were muffled, but he heard enough to attract his interest.

"Damned weird shit yesterday." 

"Um-hmm," muttered the second man.

"Sure wasn't the way it was supposed to go. Gotta wonder..." The first man dropped his voice, making it harder for Magnum to hear. "Got beat to _shit_... Haven't seen many that bad. Awful lot of water... lungs... Didn't think ... gonna make it. Pretty, too..."

"Yep," grunted the second man.

"Never had a patient that bad before. Barely got ... back... Didn't look good. Heard anything today?" 

"No, and we're not gonna, either," came the curt reply.

"Damned spooks..." the first man muttered

"We're not supposed to be talking about this, y'know," his companion said nervously. "That admiral will have our asses. Our own skipper couldn't even get the details..."

"Aw, c'mon... Chill, L.T. You always worry too much. There's no one here. No one would believe that story if we told them, anyway," the other man scoffed.

Magnum stepped around the corner to his locker. "Hi guys." The two stood with their mouths hanging open, looking for all the world like two boys caught someplace they didn't belong. Magnum recognized them as fellow SEALs; one a lieutenant, the other a chief hospital corpsman, if he remembered correctly. "What's up?" Thomas asked nonchalantly as he opened his locker.

"Nothing much, sir," responded the lieutenant, finally able to get his tongue moving. Magnum didn't miss the panicked look that passed between the two.

Magnum kicked off his shoes and stripped his sweat-soaked shirt over his head. "What's the topic?" he continued.

"Ah, movies, sir," blurted the chief. "Have you seen, ah, 'Die Hard' yet? Pretty brutal stuff... Great movie!" he managed to finish with a smile.

"Yeah," added the lieutenant. "That was a good one!" 

But the men's enthusiasm fell flat. Magnum knew they were lying, but couldn't imagine why, or about what. _They probably got into a fight somewhere, and don't want anyone to know about it,_ he thought with amusement. _Either that, or they're talking about an operation, and I don't wanna know..._ He doubted the latter was true, however, since he sat in on the CINC's briefs, and he hadn't heard about any ongoing operations. "'Die Hard.' Hmmmm... I'll have to check that one out," he commented as he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked toward the showers. _But there's nothing about water in Die Hard that **I** can remember. Gotta yank their chains just a little._ "Keep out of trouble, guys," he tossed back over his shoulder, chuckling to himself as he watched their discomfort deepen.

"Aye, sir," they muttered.

As Thomas expected, the two were long gone by the time he returned from his shower.

*******

Magnum was just getting settled back at his desk when the phone rang and rescued him from the inevitable return to paperwork. He grabbed the receiver on the first ring. "CINCPACFLT, Commander Magnum." After four months, the title was finally beginning to feel natural to him, and he no longer needed to think about it before he answered the phone.

"Magnum," said a familiar voice.

"Higgins? What is it?" Thomas cut in, alarmed. "What's wrong? Has something happened to Lily?" _Why is he calling me at work?_

"Calm yourself, Magnum, Lily's fine," the clipped British voice on the other end of the line reassured him. "However, you had an urgent phone call from Lieutenant Page. He says it's critical he speak with you immediately, but he wouldn't tell me why. Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"Not that I know of. No idea what he wants. What's the number?" Magnum scribbled the number on a scrap of paper. "Thanks, Higgins, I'll see you later."

Magnum dialed, heard one ring, then, "HPD, Page."

"Hi, Lieutenant, this is Magnum. What's so urgent you had to sic..."

"Magnum!" Page exploded. "Where the hell have you been?? I've been trying to reach you for almost two hours!" Magnum heard a deep intake and release of breath as the detective tried to control his voice, then, "Have you seen Lieutenant Commander Poole in the last couple of days?"

"No, she's on the mainland, on leave. Why?" _What's he so worked up about?_

"Then maybe you can explain to me why a couple of military guys out for a run found her clothes and ID on Waimanalo Beach this morning. Her car is out there, too, but no sign of _her_."

"_What?_" Magnum exclaimed, desperately trying to process what he'd just heard.

Page sighed, "Look, Magnum, I'm sorry, but you were listed in her wallet as an emergency contact. Any idea at all where she might be?"

Magnum's blood ran cold. His little voice was _screaming_... _I knew she would have told me if she were leaving the islands, no matter how mad she was..._ "I have no idea, Lieutenant, she really is supposed to be on the mainland, as far as I know," he responded, his mind racing. "What the hell is going on?" 

"I don't know, Magnum, but you'd better get over to Waimanalo Beach. I'll meet you there."

"On my way," Magnum snapped, hanging up and rushing out the door.

*******

Magnum skidded the Land Rover to a halt and ran across the beach toward where Page and TC Calvin were standing together. "What happened? Have you started a search?!"

"Magnum," Page responded quietly, "look over here." He led Thomas to an area cordoned off with police tape. "Here's where we found her stuff. Clothes, ID, towel, shoes, car keys. Money and credit cards still in her wallet. Car still in the parking lot. There's a set of footprints leading into the water." He shook his head. "There are no footprints coming back out. We've checked every hospital. We checked the morgue. Nothing."

"So? Maybe she walked down the beach in the water. Maybe she was attacked. Anything could have happened!"

TC stepped to Magnum's side. "Thomas," he said heavily, "I heard about it on the scanner. I've been out there in the chopper."

"TC, she's a great swimmer!" Magnum swept an arm toward the ocean. "If she got in trouble, she's probably just out there treading water, waiting for us to find her!"

TC grabbed Magnum by the upper arms. "_Thomas!_" he shouted, giving Magnum a good shake. "Listen to me! I've been _out_ there, man. There are sharks, dozens of them, _everywhere_..." TC looked terrible, his face running with sweat and twisted in anguish. "TM," he continued, "those sharks, the way they're acting..." He looked up into the sky, wishing he didn't have to continue. "They've been... _feeding_..." His eyes bored into Magnum. "I'm sorry, TM. She's _gone_..." he exclaimed softly, his eyes brimming with tears.

Magnum looked wildly back and forth between TC and Page, desperately wanting to see some glimmer of hope, but both of their faces confirmed the grave finality of the situation. "No," Thomas whispered. "It can't be..." He stood gulping for air and staring out at the ocean in disbelief, almost as though if he looked long enough, Maggie would walk up out of the water. 

Magnum took two steps backwards and stumbled in the sand. TC caught him before he fell. "Come on TM," he said gently. "I'll take you home." Thomas nodded absently and allowed TC to steer him toward his van. TC looked over his shoulder at Page, shooting the lieutenant an anxious look.

Page nodded slowly. These scenes were never easy, but were always all that much worse when he knew the victim. "I'll be in touch," he assured TC. Page's face darkened with frustration as he angrily flicked away the remains of his cigarette. 

*******

Magnum ran along the beach until he could physically go no farther. He had thanked TC for the ride home, but dismissed him with the excuse that he needed to be alone. While TC had walked slowly toward the main house to tell Higgins what had happened and to call Rick, Magnum had blindly stripped off his uniform and replaced it with running shorts and a tank top. He had no idea how far he had run, but he was now completely spent, and as he dropped to his knees in the sand all of the emotion he had kept carefully bottled up for the last several hours came spilling out in great gasping sobs. 

"Why?" he whispered raggedly at the empty ocean before him, tears spilling from his red rimmed eyes. His face twisted into a mask of heartbroken despair. **_ "Why?!"_** he roared. 

It was a long, long time before Thomas dragged himself back inside the guest house, where he found a note from Alicia telling him not to worry about Lily. He numbly splashed scotch into a glass and swallowed it in one gulp. After standing in a pounding hot shower and polishing off the rest of the bottle of scotch, he fell into a dream-ravaged sleep.

*******

"Magnum?" There was no response from the man sitting on the rock wall with a beer in his hand, his shoulders slumped, staring out over the ocean into the early morning sunshine. "I say, _Magnum_!" repeated Higgins, walking from the lawn to the beach. "You have a visitor." 

As he walked around the end of the wall, Higgins got a good look at Magnum. "My God, man, are you alright?" he asked quietly. The man was obviously hung over, but even that didn't account for the ragged look on his face.

Magnum took a long pull from the bottle of Old Dusseldorf and answered softly, "If you're asking whether I'm going off the deep end again, the answer is 'No', Higgins. But if I'd just listened to her the other day..." His voice trailed off as his lips squeezed into a tight, thin line and his eyes took on the haunted look of a man who felt he could have changed history, if only he'd been paying attention. 

"Magnum, it was an accident, nothing more. I think you know that. You couldn't have stopped what happened." Higgins shook his head. "Not this time." After a moment's pause, he asked gently, "Can I help with Lily?"

"No, thank you, Higgins. She stayed with Alicia last night."

"Very well, I'll be in the house if you need me," Higgins continued quietly, turning slowly and walking through the gate. He paused briefly, looked over his shoulder and opened his mouth to make another comment, then shook his head and continued on his way. _I don't suppose it would do any good to tell him that self-flagellation won't change a thing..._

It finally registered with Thomas that another man had accompanied Higgins. "Jim Bonnick..." he acknowledged flatly.

"Hello, Magnum." Bonnick stood with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He was shorter than Magnum, with dark hair, dark eyes, and round face. 

_No jokes, no flip remarks, not even that devil-may-care smile of his,_ thought Thomas. "Where's your mustache? New disguise?"

"No, it's not a disguise," snapped Bonnick, feeling along his upper lip, which until recently had been adorned by a bushy black mustache. "I have a new girlfriend, and all girls don't think it tickles, y'know." He paused, waiting for Magnum to speak. "Aren't you even gonna to ask me what I'm doing here?" Bonnick finally asked, cocking his head to one side.

"I figure you're gonna tell me any minute now, Mac. I'm sure you have some scheme cooked up that you want my 'help' with." Bonnick had used more aliases than Thomas could count, so he continued to call him as "Mac" in honor of his long-dead friend, who could have been Bonnick's identical twin.

Bonnick shook his head solemnly. "No, not this time. I'm here about Maggie."

Magnum peered at him suspiciously. How had he heard so quickly? He looked awfully somber. "What about Maggie?" Thomas asked quietly, rising to his feet and setting the beer down on the wall.

"I heard they found her stuff at Waimanalo yesterday morning..."

"Maybe. Where'd you hear that?"

The shorter man shrugged nonchalantly. "I got connections. I hear things." He paused. "Magnum, she wouldn't have been swimming at Waimanalo," he said with a slow shake of his head. "She, ah ... she didn't like Waimanalo."

"And what makes you say that?" _What was not to like about one of the most beautiful beaches on Oahu?_

"We were planning a snorkeling trip a while back. I suggested Waimanalo, but she said no. She said..." Bonnick paused again and pursed his lips. He knew his next words might earn him a punch in the nose.

"Said _what?!_" demanded a clearly irritated Magnum, throwing his hands in the air. _What could Maggie possibly have told this con artist that she wouldn't have told me? Huh, what's that?_ Was that _sympathy_ he saw in Bonnick's eyes??

Bonnick sighed. "She said it was too close to your place, so she avoided it. She preferred swimming at Kahala," he continued, taking a step backwards, just in case.

"Too close to the estate?" asked a bewildered Magnum. "What'd she mean by that?"

"I asked her that question, and she wouldn't give me a straight answer, but the look on her face said it was because it hurt too much." Mac did his best to keep his voice flat and unemotional. 

"Hurt?" Now Magnum was completely confused. "What's that supposed to mean?? I'd never hurt Maggie."

Bonnick shook his head angrily, his eyes now blazing. _Idiot..._ "Look, Magnum, if you can't figure this one out, I'm not gonna spell it out for you! I really like Maggie, as a friend." _Because that's all I **could** be to her; it's you she loves, ya big knucklehead. Are you really that blind?_ "I don't think she was attacked by a shark! Or that she drowned! I think there's something else going on here!" he shouted, throwing his hands in the air.

_A con artist can usually spot a con..._ "Okay," Thomas said quietly. "What do _you_ think is going on? Are you telling me you think it's possible she's still _alive??_"

"I don't know," Bonnick continued with a frustrated shake of his head. "Maybe. There's definitely something weird happening. She had some kind of run-in with Greene. I didn't see her for a few days, and I assumed she was just busy. But then Moore tells me she checked out on leave."

"How do you know about the run-in with Buck?"

"Maggie and I have lunch together sometimes. Go snorkeling together. I think she's trying to reform me," he answered with a sad smile.

_What else don't I know about Maggie Poole?_ thought a chagrined Thomas Magnum. _He keeps talking about her in the present tense. Is that because he can't deal with her death, or because he doesn't believe she's gone?_

"There's one other thing, Magnum, but you gotta keep me out of it." Bonnick shook a finger at the larger man.

"I'm listening," answered Thomas, still trying to absorb what Bonnick had told just him about Maggie.

Usually a pretty happy-go-lucky guy, Bonnick looked more serious than Thomas had ever seen him. "I had a little deal going with a couple of Marines, just some ammunition here and there, a few flares. You know, stuff no one was really gonna miss too much." Magnum folded his arms across his chest and stared at him without comment. "Well, I went up to the bunker one night a couple of weeks ago to meet them. I was running a little late. When I got close to the place, I saw Buck Greene holding a gun on them."

_"Buck?"_ blurted Magnum incredulously.

"Yeah, Buck. I figured they were about to get busted, so I ducked back into the shadows. But Buck was, ah, talking about..." He shook his head slowly, as though still not quite able to believe what he had seen. "He was talking to them about his 'cut'."

"His cut??" Magnum thought for a moment. "Those two were arrested just a couple of days ago. Buck was probably just getting enough evidence to put them away."

Bonnick shook his head vehemently. "Uh-uh. No way. First of all, Buck had a bottle of booze in his hand and he sounded pretty drunk. Second, I heard Five-0 picked them up on an anonymous tip. No _way_ Buck is gonna let Five-0 move in on one of _his_ cases." He paused and stared hard at Thomas. "Magnum, you don't suppose Maggie somehow figured out what he was up to and confronted him, do you?"

_How does he manage to get all this information? The guy has sources everywhere! But he's right about one thing; Buck would never have let McGarrett steal his case._ "No, I don't think so. Her run-in with Buck was about something else." _Which means_, Thomas thought smugly, _Maggie doesn't tell you everything_. Nevertheless, his little voice had begun to whisper at the back of his head. Was it possible Buck was involved in weapons deals? Why? And if so, why call attention to himself with his recent behavior. There was definitely more here than met the eye...

A small glimmer of hope pierced the black gloom hanging over Magnum's heart. Was it possible, remotely possible, that Maggie hadn't drowned, or been killed by a shark? That she was alive?? Suddenly, a memory exploded through him like a lightning bolt. _Damned weird shit yesterday. Got beat to shit... Water... Lungs... Pretty..._ It was a huge leap, but what if...?? Could they have been talking about _Maggie?_ Where had those SEALs been? What were they doing?? Who were they working for???

"Magnum? Magnum?!" Bonnick reached out and shook his arm. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Magnum's gaze bored into the shorter man. "She's alive, Mac. I _know_ it. I don't know where she is, or what's going on, but she's alive, and we have to find her. Fast." He ran for the guest house with Bonnick trailing behind. 

They burst through the front door of the guest house to the sound of the phone ringing. Magnum bounded down the stairs and grabbed it. "Magnum."

"Magnum, this is Page. I need to talk to you. _Now_."

"I'm listening."

"Not on the phone. Meet me."

Magnum could hear the urgency in the other man's voice. "Where?"

"The pull off up above Diamond Head Lighthouse." 

"On my way," replied Magnum tersely. He turned to Bonnick. "I gotta go. Think your sources can come up with anything else?"

"I don't know, but if I can help, I will. She was..." Bonnick stopped and swallowed hard, "IS... a good friend... I'll call you if I find anything." He let himself out the front door.

Magnum quickly changed his clothes, checked his .45, and tucked it in its customary place behind his back. He considered briefing Higgins, but decided he'd see what Page had to say first. 

As Magnum roared up the driveway, he nearly collided with Rick's Mercedes as it came through the gate. Rick jumped from his car and screamed at the departing Land Rover. "Thomas! What the hell's the matter with you??" Rick looked over at Higgins and TC, who had emerged from the house to see what the commotion was about. "Higgins, what the hell's the matter with him?? TC, what are you doing here?"

"Where have you _been_, Rick?" demanded Higgins, staring at the open gate with deep concern engraved on his face. "We've been trying to reach you all night!" 

"I took Cleo to Maui for a couple of days. I told you I was taking off. Thomas asked me to pick this up for him, and I just stopped by to drop it off," he responded defensively, holding up a shopping bag. Rick finally noticed the looks on their faces. "Will someone please tell me what's going on?!" he demanded.

"It's bad, man. Come on inside," TC responded solemnly.

*******

Lieutenant Colonel Brian Connolly, U.S. Army, M.D., stood in his office studying a series of head and chest x-rays hanging on a light box. There were no fractures, which surprised him, given the patient's condition, and no pneumonia, but he was still gravely concerned. Her EEG was normal, but her lungs and cardiovascular system were shaky, at best, and she showed no signs of regaining consciousness. 

"It's _Tuesday,_" he muttered to himself. "She should have been awake yesterday, dammit." _That concoction we put together was never meant to be used on anyone so badly injured. It's a wonder the shock didn't kill her outright._ He still wasn't at all sure that the outcome would be good. He shook his head solemnly as he thought back to the patient's arrival, late Sunday evening.

The medical team moved the gurney swiftly off the helipad at Tripler Army Medical Center and into an isolated exam room where a full trauma team awaited their arrival. A medic from the helicopter crew reported the measures already taken in the patient's care as she was transferred to an examination table. Several people went to work on her at once. One quickly checked the IV, reached for a syringe, and injected medication into the line. Another grabbed the ominous-looking rubber bag-valve attached to the tube protruding from her mouth and continued the rhythmic compressions that forced oxygen into her lungs. Yet another tensely recited vital signs. "Still awfully slow. Pulse 30, respirations zero, BP barely 60, zero diastolic. Pupils responsive, but uneven, and _way_ too sluggish."

"_Damn_ it. Best laid plans..." muttered the doctor who appeared to be in charge. "Get another milligram of atropine into her," he ordered. He turned to another doctor. "How are her lungs?"

"Not good, Dr. Connolly. Sounds like she's got a lot of water in there," came the response from the young resident who had a stethoscope pressed against her chest.

"Is the ET tube okay?" Connolly asked as he continued his evaluation of the patient's numerous injuries.

The resident nodded. "Yes. Got breath sounds in the chest; none in the belly."

"Get that vent hooked up. We're going to have to breathe for her."

Surprisingly, no one seemed terribly concerned about the gunshot wound in their patient's chest.

The atropine improved the patient's heart rate and blood pressure somewhat, and as the immediately necessary ministrations were completed, Connolly finally got a good look at his patient. "What _happened_ to her?!" he exclaimed incredulously, taking in the battered state of her face and neck. "Get a portable X-ray up here, stat," he snapped. "I want a full set of pictures, head to toe. Priority on the head and chest. And find out which plastic surgeon is on call." 

Connolly rolled her on to her side to get a look at her back. _My God,_ he thought, staring at the bloody gouges and the footprint-shaped bruise over her kidney. 

As the doctor continued his assessment of her injuries, and noted the type and location of bruising, an even more appalling scenario became evident. Connolly turned to a nurse and ordered in a strangled voice, "Get GYN up here, _now_." The doctor swallowed hard. "Tell them to bring a rape kit..." No matter how many times he dealt with this situation, it always made his stomach churn.

_This certainly isn't exactly going as planned,_ Connolly thought sourly as he stepped to one side of the room and picked up a phone. _What the hell went wrong out there??_ He dialed a number from memory. "The patient is alive, sir," he reported without salutation, "but there have been a number of unexpected complications."

"Is your patient in any danger, doctor?" the voice inquired.

"Unconscious, sir, and not breathing without assistance," Connolly calmly informed the other man.

"_What?!_" came the explosive response, although it was clear the man was trying to keep his voice down to avoid being overheard. "What _happened??_"

"I don't know, sir, but it's clear there were several, ah, unanticipated events." Connolly had no desire to relay the details over the phone.

"Damn. I have the Thai delegation here all day tomorrow. The earliest I can be there is first thing Tuesday morning. I expect you'll keep me informed of the _slightest_ change in the patient's condition between now and then." 

"Yes, sir."

The line clicked dead.

"Doctor?" Connolly snapped back to the present as an older, silver-haired man entered the room. 

"Good morning, Admiral," the doctor responded.

"You mentioned complications. How is she?" The admiral didn't look as though he'd had much sleep.

"It's still very much touch and go, Admiral. She's holding her own... Just barely... She's responding to the antidotes, but those drugs we pumped into her were never meant to be used with such severe injuries present. Her vital signs are still very shaky, but we're not seeing any signs of brain swelling or brain damage, although she's still unconscious. There was far more water incursion into her lungs that we would have liked, but there's no sign of pneumonia. She still needs a ventilator help her breathe." 

The other man looked stunned. _"Brain damage??_ Just how severe are these injuries??"

The doctor took a deep breath. "I don't know what happened out there, sir, but someone beat the hell out of her," he reported. "She's got a severe concussion, a badly bruised kidney, a cracked rib, and lacerations and contusions all over her. It took dozens of stitches to close up her face." Connolly paused, trying to avoid delivering the news he knew would send the other man into orbit.

"What else?" the admiral asked quietly, noting the doctor's discomfort.

Connolly took another deep breath. "Sir," he continued reluctantly, "she was raped."

Several seconds of utter silence followed the announcement as the older man stiffened and drew in a sharp breath. _"What?!"_ he finally gasped. His face paled by several shades as he unsteadily lowered himself into a chair. "Are you sure?" The admiral quickly shook his head. "I'm sorry, Colonel, that was a stupid question." 

Hawkes stared at the floor. "My God," he muttered, running a shaky hand over his face "what have we done?"

*******

Hawkes and Connolly stepped quietly into a dimly lit room that had been outfitted as a self-contained intensive care unit. A nurse hovered over a patient surrounded by equipment that quietly hummed and beeped, providing continuous updates on the patient's condition. "Good morning, Admiral," the nurse greeted the older man.

"Good morning," he replied absently, without looking the nurse. His gaze was riveted on the figure on the bed. The patient's ashen neck and face were covered with deep purple bruises; the latter grossly swollen, bearing grim witness to the savagery of the beating she had endured. A bandage covered half of her forehead, and a deep abrasion marred most of one cheek. Even if she had been conscious, Hawkes doubted she would have been able to open her eyes. Tape held an endotracheal tube firmly in her mouth. Her chest rose and fell in time to the click and hiss of the machine assisting her breathing.

"Show me the rest," Hawkes ordered sharply, his voice tightly controlled.

"Sir, you don't really want to..." stammered a shocked Connolly.

"Do it!" the other man snapped through clenched teeth.

Connolly pulled the sheet down slowly. The patient's exposed torso was covered with vicious-looking contusions, with particularly livid purple bruises evident on her breasts … and on what Hawkes could see of her buttocks ... and on her inner thighs... Was that a _bite_ on her shoulder?! 

"There's more on her back, including a _footprint_," growled the doctor. 

The admiral stared for a long moment, then squeezed his eyes shut and turned away as the nurse pulled the sheet back up to cover the ugly evidence of the attack. "Keep me informed," he ordered, his strained voice under rigid control, his stomach threatening to regurgitate his breakfast.

"Yes, sir," responded Connolly as Hawkes left the room without another word.

The doctor and nurse exchanged a disturbed look. "I _hate_ this damned spooky crap," Connolly muttered. "Something always goes wrong." The hairs on the back of his neck had begun to prickle, and he had learned a very long time ago that this was an excellent barometer for trouble in the offing. Something quite beyond the horrific obvious was going on here, but he was unable, as yet, to discern exactly what it was.

*******

"Good morning, Miss Carlisle," Steve McGarrett greeted Admiral Hawkes' secretary.

"Mr. McGarrett! Ah, sir, I told your secretary that the admiral's calendar was full this morning. I'm sorry, sir, but he can't see you."

"Yes, and Lani told _you_ that I would be here at nine o'clock," McGarrett noted, arching his eyebrow in irritation. "This is an urgent matter; it can't wait. Please tell the admiral I'm here."

A harried looking Captain Perry joined the two from an adjacent office. "Mr. McGarrett, I'm sorry, but the admiral isn't here. He had a meeting this morning."

"Good morning, John," McGarrett greeted the man, ignoring his rank. "He went to a meeting without you, his aide? That's odd... You know, I was thinking of you just the other day," he continued with a disarming smile. "Remember that exercise we did together in Japan. When was that? '69? '70? You were a lieutenant, if I remember correctly. Or were you still a JG? We sure had fun, didn't we? You ever tell Bunny about that one? No?" McGarrett smirked inwardly as the other man's face reddened. "I hear your last WESTPAC was pretty wild, too," McGarrett continued with a smile. "Must have taken you forever to tell Bunny all _those_ stories." McGarrett let the threat hang in the air. The captain knew he meant business. It would be easy enough for McGarrett to get word of his, ah, "extracurricular activities" to his wife.

"What do you want, McGarrett?" Perry asked sourly.

McGarrett's face sobered. "Simple, John. I need to see the admiral, and I'm not leaving until I do," McGarrett replied, stone-faced. "So if he's not here, I'll wait. If he doesn't return, I'll bring him in for questioning. It would certainly be easier on everyone if he and I had a conversation now, in his office."

"I'll be right back," muttered the captain, returning to his office, where McGarrett knew there was a connecting door to the admiral's office.

McGarrett had just settled into a comfortable armchair when Admiral Hawkes' door popped open.

"Mr. McGarrett. Nice to see you. I'm sorry there was a misunderstanding about my schedule. Please, come in." The admiral forced a broad smile as he shook McGarrett's hand and led the way into the office.

"Please, have a seat," said Hawkes uncomfortably as he shut the door clicked shut behind them. He was already having an awful morning. The visit to Tripler had shaken him badly, and he certainly wasn't in the mood for sparring with McGarrett.

"Thank you," responded the guest, taking the chair indicated by the admiral.

"Coffee?" 

"No, thank you." McGarrett casually crossed one leg over the other and studied the other man carefully. Hawkes looked tense and tired; he obviously hadn't slept well. Despite the man's forced calm, McGarrett could see he was having a very bad morning. _The question is, why?_

The admiral's posture was unnaturally stiff as he sat with his hands folded together and resting lightly on his desk. "What can I do for you?"

McGarrett eyed Hawkes coldly. "Let's cut the baloney, shall we, Admiral? I want to talk about Maggie Poole."

Hawkes shook his head. "Terrible accident. Terrible. But what is there to talk about? And why is Five-0 involved in a simple accident?" he asked, planting a confused look on his face.

McGarrett's eyes narrowed. "Buck Greene had her undercover, Admiral."

"What?? That's _absurd_!" Hawkes blurted, leaning forward in his chair. "How dare you suggest such a thing?! Lieutenant Commander Poole was an _analyst_. We don't send our analysts undercover! I don't know what you're trying to pull, but you're way out of line, Mr. McGarrett!" The fact that the admiral's knuckles turned white as he tightened his hands didn't escape the Five-0 Chief's attention.

McGarrett shook his head. "I don't think so, Admiral. Are you trying to tell me that Colonel Greene didn't have her working an operation?" he asked sharply.

"No, of course not! What operation?" Hawkes now affixed a perplexed, disturbed look on his face. 

_He's trying, but he's not quite good enough..._ "Arms dealers?" McGarrett arched an eyebrow and smiled enigmatically. "The Marines I have in custody are telling a very interesting story…"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hawkes responded bluntly. "We have no such operation in progress. And even if we did, you, of all people, know perfectly well that we do _not_ send analysts undercover."

The man was a bad liar. McGarrett's smile disappeared. "I'd like to speak with Colonel Greene."

"I'm sorry, he's not available."

"When _will_ he be available, Admiral? This is official. I'm conducting an investigation concerning military weapons being sold on the black market in my jurisdiction. I expect the Navy's cooperation." His voice was cold and uncompromising.

"Mr. McGarrett, I'll be happy to assign an officer to work with you on this investigation, but I can assure you that Lieutenant Commander Poole was not involved in any type of operation or investigation." The admiral stood and smiled wearily. "Thank you for your time and your concern. I'm sorry we couldn't be of more assistance," he added, signaling the end of the interview.

McGarrett rose slowly and leaned across the desk toward the admiral. "It's too neat, Admiral. Much too clean. But thank you for _your_ time." He walked toward the door. Halfway across the room he stopped and turned to face Hawkes. 

"One thing you seem to have forgotten, sir. I played these games for a lot of years, and I'm very, _very_ good at them." McGarrett stared at the admiral long enough to see his face pale by several shades, then he walked out.

Admiral Hawkes could feel his heart thudding as he lifted the phone and dialed. "McGarrett knows too much," he said into the phone. "We're going to have to move fast."

*******

Detective Dan Williams looked up from the paperwork spread out on his desk as the door to the Five-0 offices opened and then slammed shut behind a tall, dark-haired, scowling man.

"Danno... Duke..." Steve McGarrett cocked his head, beckoning his second-in-command and Detective Duke Lukela to follow him to his spacious office. 

Williams glanced at Lukela and raised his eyebrows. _Any idea why he's so teed off?_ his expression inquired silently. 

Duke shrugged, raised his hands, palms up, and shook his head silently. _Not a clue..._

_Great,_ thought Williams sourly as he followed the taller man. _I'd at least like to know what I'm walking in to._

"He knows something, Danno," McGarrett snapped as soon as the door closed.

_Ahhhh__,_ thought Dan. "The meeting with admiral didn't go well..."

"To say the least," growled McGarrett. "Something just doesn't add up. I'm not convinced that girl is dead, although someone _wants_ me to be convinced. I _know_ Greene had her undercover, and Admiral Hawkes undoubtedly approved the operation." He paused and glanced out the window. 

"I want the book on Maggie Poole and Buck Greene. I'll check out the admiral myself. You can start with Maggie's friend, Katherine Prescott. They spent a lot of time together."

"You don't want to talk to Katherine yourself?" asked a surprised Williams.

"No" responded McGarrett with a grimace. "I doubt she'd have much to say to me. We're not exactly on the best of terms. Find Greene. Put a tail on him." His face hardened. "And put one on Admiral Hawkes, too."

"Won't do much good if the admiral stays on the base, Steve" commented Williams.

"Yeah, Danno, I know. Do what you can."

"So we're gonna lock horns with Buck Greene again," commented Lukela ruefully. "No love lost between you two, Steve."

"No, I don't like the way he operates. And this time he's gone too far. Way too far." McGarrett rapped his knuckles lightly on his desk top. "Let's nail this one quickly. I don't want to embarrass the Navy, but I'm beginning to think the admiral and the colonel may be out on their own. We're going to have to move fast."

Williams nodded. "You got it, Steve."

*******

The pulloff above the Diamond Head Lighthouse was half full, despite the fact that it was the middle of the week. Conditions were perfect, and the windsurfers were out in droves. The pageantry playing out far below as colorful sails screamed back and forth along the shore was lost on Magnum as he scanned the lot for Page's aging sedan and finally spotted it parked at the far end.

"I hear McGarrett's pissed because the military wants jurisdiction over the Marines Five-0 picked up running guns," Page began as the two men stood side by side looking out over the water. "I guess the Marine Corps was supposed to work with Five-0, but they backed out on the deal, or something, and Five-0 caught these guys anyway. The sergeant clammed up and screamed for a lawyer. Not the corporal. Kid's scared as shit and singing like a canary. Seems he made a few local enemies, and the _last_ thing he wants is to sit in an HPD cell with any of them. He's _beggin__'_ to be sent back to the base. McGarrett told him maybe, after he makes a full statement. Right now McGarrett's got Truck sitting and staring at the guy, just to make sure he still wants to cooperate."

Despite the serious situation, Magnum couldn't help but smile at the thought of Truck Kealoha, the huge, gentle Hawaiian detective, playing bad cop. 

Page squinted at Magnum, took a drag on his ever-present cigarette, and dead-panned, "Kid swears Colonel Greene is their middleman, and he promised them they were in on the ground floor of something big."

"Buck?" exclaimed Magnum incredulously. _That's the second time I've heard that in the last two hours..._

"Yeah," continued Page, "And the kid's talking about someone named The Cat, supposedly some major league arms dealer. Ever heard of him?"

"No. You?" Magnum stared evenly at the detective.

"No. I figured this was more up your alley than mine. I also hear that McGarrett seems to think that Maggie Poole's disappearance might be connected. That she may have been working undercover, looking for this Cat. Any thoughts on that one?"

_What??_ It was all Magnum could do to conceal his astonishment. _McGarrett thinks there's a connection? Why continue to allow everyone to think she's dead? Because if she is alive, Five-0 doesn't know where she is, and she's still in danger._

Nolan Page would be one of the last men on earth Thomas would have suspected of being dirty, but before this morning, he would have said the same about Buck Greene... "You seem to hear a lot... Why are you asking me?"

"I got friends at Five-0," retorted Page. "What I don't have is connections inside Naval Intelligence."

_Can I trust him?_ thought Thomas. "McGarrett's got connections. If he can't get anywhere, what makes you think I can?" 

"Look, Magnum," snapped Page. "I got a dead girl, I think, but there's no body. I got a gun-running kid who's scared to death. No one seems to know anything about this Cat. Somehow this colonel, who's _supposed_ to be a straight arrow, is involved. I begin to wonder if the girl's disappearance is connected; the timing's curious as hell... Then I hear that _McGarrett_ thinks there may be a connection. I'm thinking, 'What the fuck? Maybe it's not a simple accident .' So I figure maybe you can come up with something, now that you got access to all that secret shit again."

Magnum stared at the man for a moment. They'd never gotten along particularly well; he knew what it must have taken for Page to swallow his pride and ask for Magnum's help. Even so, outside of a very small group, Thomas couldn't trust a soul right now – not completely. "At this point, Lieutenant, you seem to know more than I do. I doubt the Navy's going to help with this, trust me. I'll see what I can find out, but don't count on much." 

Magnum started to turn away, but paused and asked very quietly, "You really think she's alive?"

Page answered just as softly, "It's a real long shot, Magnum, but I hope so."

Thomas nodded and walked quickly back toward his car, his mind churning with possibilities and plans. Page stubbed out his cigarette, rubbed his hands over his tired face, and stared after Magnum. _Maybe,_ he thought wearily. _Just maybe..._

*******

Magnum burst into the NIA front office, much to the dismay of both Major Jarrett and Petty Officer Moore. The commander's visits never meant good things.

"Is Colonel Greene here?" Magnum demanded.

"No, sir," responded Jarrett uncomfortably. _And don't ask me where he is, because I don't have the first fucking idea,_ the major thought darkly. This was looking worse all the time.

"Captain Clements?" continued Magnum.

"Yes, sir," replied the harried aide, picking up the phone and dialing Greene's deputy's intercom number. "Sir, Commander Magnum is here to see you." There was a pause while the captain spoke. "Yes, sir."

"Go ahead in, sir," Jarrett said to Magnum, happy that he was no longer the focus of the commander's attention.

Captain Clements took one look at Magnum and wondered if the whole world was going mad. The man was obviously fighting a vicious hangover, and although it was the middle of a workday, he was dressed in shorts and a wrinkled T-shirt. Clements could make some allowances for the stress of having lost a colleague, but this was going way too far. "No uniform today, Commander?" he commented cynically.

"Captain, where's Colonel Greene? I need to see him, right away," Magnum demanded, ignoring both the question and the attitude.

"He's obviously not here. Is there something I can help you with?" _As long as I can get rid of you quickly..._

Magnum grabbed the front of Clements' shirt. "Where is he?" he roared in Clements' face.

"I don't know!" Clements retorted, his eyes widening. "I've been looking for him all night, myself. He checked out on leave last Friday and disappeared. He's supposed to be at his house, but he's not there." 

Magnum released his hold on the man. Clements straightened his shirt and continued. "The bastard has to have heard about Lieutenant Commander Poole. It's been all over every TV and radio station on Oahu. Fool girl goes and gets herself killed and he's not even around to take care of business. I assume that he's on another binge somewhere, leaving us to pick up after him."

Magnum placed his face inches from the captain's. "You are the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet right now," he snarled. "If we weren't in this office, I would beat the _shit_ out of you." Thomas gave him a violent shove, sending him toppling backwards on top of his desk.

Jarrett and Moore had almost become immune to loud noises, but the both jumped when Magnum charged out of Clements' office, slammed the door behind him, and blasted past them without another word. From the look on the commander's face, they were both glad he wasn't pissed at _them._

*******

Magnum's next stop was the building that housed the SEAL offices. Looking for Buck would be fruitless at this point; Clements no doubt had half the security force searching, to no avail. But those two SEALs he had overheard in the locker room knew something, Thomas was sure of it. He stood beside his car and checked his watch. Any minute now... There. Just like clockwork.

"Hi Chet," he called to a man just coming to a stop after what must have been a long run.

"Magnum!" responded Commander Chet Wilkins, still panting. "Haven't seen you in ages. How the hell are you? What's up?"

"Doing great," replied Magnum, walking over to meet his Academy classmate. "But I need a favor."

"You always need a favor," grinned Chet. "You going back east for our twentieth reunion next weekend?"

Thomas flashed a wry smile. "Nah. I'm a little busy right now. I never liked those things, anyway." 

"You're gonna miss a great party!" Wilkins cocked his head to one side. "Anyhow, what was it you were gonna hit me up for?"

Magnum's smile disappeared. "Lieutenant Velasquez and Chief Stone are your guys, aren't they?"

"Yeah, they are. Why?" Commander Chet Wilkins asked warily, his smile also gone.

"Got a couple of questions to ask them. Know where I can find them?"

Wilkins stared hard for a moment. "Magnum, what the _hell_ is going on? Those two deployed this morning under sealed orders that came directly from Admiral Hawkes. I don't even know where they are! Does this have anything to do with that 'training mission' the admiral sent them on last weekend?"

"What do you know about that training mission?" Magnum asked sharply.

"Nothing, damn it!" Wilkins snapped. "I was required to cough up four men and a boat. One of the men had to be a corpsman. That's all I know and I _damn_ sure don't like it!"

"Damn," muttered Magnum. "Thanks anyway, Chet." He turned away and jogged toward his car. "I'll see you later," he called over his shoulder.

"Magnum! What the hell is going on?" Wilkins shouted after him.

*******

Magnum sped back toward the estate. Alicia had been gracious enough to keep Lily for another night. "Don't worry about a thing, Thomas. She'll have fun, and she won't have to see you so upset. You take care of yourself, hear?" Thomas had promised to do just that, and had managed to put a big smile on his face to say goodbye to his daughter and pretend to be upset that she wanted to stay and have fun at Alicia's house.

His thoughts churned as he tried to pull together the pieces of the puzzle. Almost everyone who seemed to know anything had conveniently disappeared.

_McGarrett says Maggie was undercover. Makes no sense. Buck running guns? That doesn't fit, either. Did McGarrett use Maggie to try to nail Buck? Or to nail the Marines in Five-0 custody? Who is this Cat? Is Buck working with him?_

Magnum's head was beginning to spin. He decided to focus on one thing at a time, starting with Maggie. _If she's hurt as badly as they said, she's gotta be in a hospital. But I checked all the hospitals. Nothing... Buck might have been able to engineer shutting up all the military people, but he doesn't control the local hospitals. There'd be someone who would let something slip. On the other hand, they sure had the courts under their thumb when they let Ki go... If Maggie is alive, and hurt, there's only one place Buck could control. Tripler... _

But first he needed backup.

*******

The sound of the main house's front door opening brought all three men in the study quickly to their feet. Magnum strode into the room, his face grim.

"Magnum, _where_ have you _been_? We've been waiting for _hours_." Higgins face exhibited a curious mixture of concern and irritation.

"What's going on, TM??" chimed in TC, afraid he might already know at least part of the answer to his question.

"Thomas, you almost ran me down earlier! What's the matter with you??" snapped an irritated Rick.

"Hi guys," came the quiet response. Thomas kept walking right through the study toward the French doors leading to the lanai. He held one finger to his lips to silence their questions and cocked his head, motioning for them to follow.

Once outside, the three waited expectantly. "I'm glad you're all here. I need your help, no questions asked." Magnum's solemn tone silenced the usual snide remarks about his constant requests for free assistance. These appeals had diminished since he reentered the Navy and no longer took what Higgins had delightedly referred to as "sordid divorce cases," but Thomas still had a bad habit of taking advantage of his friends from time to time.

Higgins was the first to acknowledge the apparent seriousness of the situation. "What is it, Magnum?" he asked, studying the taller man carefully. He hadn't seen Magnum like this since Michelle was murdered. 

"Higgins," Thomas began, his eyes cold, hard, focused, "I assume you still keep in touch with your friends in MI6." It was not a question.

"That was a long..."

"Higgins!!" Magnum's raw shout cut him off.

The shorter man pursed his lips, closed his eyes for a moment, then looked warily at Rick and TC. "Yes," he admitted brusquely, "I'm still in contact."

Rick's mouth dropped open. "You _work_ for MI6?"

Higgins shot Rick a silencing look as Magnum continued, his eyes boring first into Rick, then TC. "What you hear now stays here. You okay with that?"

"Sure, TM. You know it," replied TC quietly.

"Yeah sure, Thomas," added Rick, his face sobering quickly.

Although looking a bit stunned at the latest disclosures, TC and Rick practically tripped over each other assuring the other two that, as always, they could be trusted implicitly. These four men had shared secrets before; deep secrets that they never spoke of, even amongst themselves. There was no need for Thomas to ask for discretion. Voicing the matter merely reinforced what they all knew; this discussion would never be mentioned outside of this group. 

"Higgins, what do you know about The Cat?" asked Magnum.

The British operative answered immediately, his voice unusually solemn. "The Cat is a shadowy arms dealer. No one is quite sure of his nationality, though we believe he is Asian. He's been referred to as El Gato, Le Chat, and half a dozen other names. Although we assume he is a man, we're not even sure of that much." Higgins peered at Magnum through narrowed eyes. "But you already knew all that."

"Yes, but I need details. I need to know who he is, what he's doing, where he is. Something very big and very dangerous is going down. I don't know what, but it looks like this Cat is the focal point. I can't trust anyone at NIA; Buck may be tied into this somehow. I can't go through channels. Will you help?"

"Of _course_ I'll help," Higgins quietly affirmed.

"TM," asked TC uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to the ground, "are you thinking that Maggie's disappearance has something to do with this?"

Magnum's face was as intense as they had ever seen it. "TC, I know what you're thinking - I've gone crazy... I've lost it. But she's _alive!_ I _know_ it! Her disappearance is too neat, too convenient. She tried to tell me Buck was up to something, but I wasn't listening."

"Thomas, she's _gone_, man. Let it _go_," TC implored with equal intensity.

"You've been wrong before, TC. She's alive, and I'm going to find her, with or without your help," Magnum said quietly.

TC shook his head slowly. Yes, he had been wrong before about Michelle being in Hawaii. But he'd been over the reef today, seen the sharks. _But if I go along with him, maybe I can keep him out of real trouble._ "Okay," he finally said with great reluctance, "What have you got?"

"Everyone in?" Magnum asked gravely.

After a chorus of "Yeah" "Absolutely" "Indeed" from the three, Thomas continued. "Here's what I've been able to find out..."

******* 

Thomas was deep in thought as he walked through the front doors of Tripler Army Medical Center. He, Rick, and TC had spent a fruitless night trying to dig up information on The Cat in Chinatown and Little Saigon. Whoever he was, The Cat had tremendous power and commanded enormous respect. No one would breathe a word. Even the toughest, shadiest criminals in Honolulu shook their heads and hurried away with fear in their eyes. "Don't know nothin' 'bout him, and neither you want to, either" was an answer they heard over and over in one form or another. Magnum had been able to glean one important piece of information from the night's efforts; there was far more fear in Little Saigon than in Chinatown. There was a good chance that The Cat was Vietnamese.

Magnum stepped up to the information desk. "Can I help you, Commander?" asked the attractive young woman sitting behind the computer.

"I'm looking for Lieutenant Commander Poole's room," he replied.

The woman tapped a few keys on her computer and frowned. "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't see a Lieutenant Commander Poole registered. Are you sure he's here?"

_Not surprised,_ he thought with an inward frown. _Didn't really expect this to be easy._ He pasted a puzzled look on his face. "She… She's a female, and I _thought_ so…"

"I can only go by what's in here," she said, pointing at her computer screen. "Maybe Mrs. Vincent, in the Patient Representative Department, can help you. Right through those doors."

"Thanks very much." Thomas turned away and pushed through the swinging doors.

As he entered Mrs. Vincent's small office, Thomas caught sight of a woman whom he knew could only be described as a formidable bureaucrat. She held court behind a small desk adorned by nothing more than a coffee cup and a picture of a cat. On the wall behind her, framed certificates cited twenty, twenty-five, and thirty years of faithful service to the Patient Representative Department. _Oh, no... A pencil pusher who has no life... _Magnum swallowed hard and conjured up the biggest grin he could muster. "Mrs. Vincent?"

"Yes?" Without lifting her head, she peered owlishly at him over the top of her reading glasses.

"Nancy, out front, sent me in. I'm looking for a patient from our command, but she wasn't able to find her in your database." He lifted his eyebrows, opened his eyes wide and fixed the woman with a pleading stare.

_"Nancy,"_ the woman snorted, "who spends most of her time daydreaming about her latest Prince Charming. She probably looked in the wrong place." She tapped a few keys. "What's the patient's name?"

"Lieutenant Commander Poole, Margaret Poole." _I don't think I've ever said Maggie's given name out loud before, _he smiled sadly to himself. _Sounds odd..._

Mrs. Vincent tapped keys, then tapped them again, the expression on her face becoming increasingly perplexed. She finally looked back at Magnum. "I'm sorry, Commander, but I don't see that Lieutenant Commander Poole is a patient in this hospital."

_Why am I **not** surprised?_ "Ma'am, our boss, Colonel Greene, sent me over here to check on her, and he's going to be plenty ticked off at me if I don't come back with a report. You _know_ how Marines can be when they give orders..." He paused, trying to look as pitiful as possible, spread his hands wide, lifted his shoulders and pleaded, "Can you help me out, here, _please??_"

_He's out of his mind, there's no patient here by that name, but those damned eyes of his could talk a woman into almost anything... Oh, what the hell..._ She sighed. "Okay, Commander, when do you _think_ she was admitted?"

"Some time late Sunday night or early Monday morning. She was injured in an accident."

_Hmm, this almost sounded legitimate. Is it **possible** that this patient is **here**?_ The tiny woman squinted at him and screwed her face into a frown. "I've been working here for over thirty years, and I have _never_ 'lost' a patient," she declared haughtily. "I _despise_ mysteries; they're altogether _disorderly_." She picked up the phone and jabbed rapidly at the numbers. "I'll get to the bottom of this!"

Magnum smiled inwardly. Step one, complete. He had Mrs. Vincent on his side, for the moment, but his heart was still thumping. If Buck showed up now, the game was over. He had to get to Maggie as soon as possible. Who else besides Buck was involved? _Some_ of the hospital staff had to be in on whatever was going on. He hoped he didn't run into them...

"Ah-HA!" Mrs. Vincent's' triumphant exclamation jerked Magnum out of his reverie. "_This_ mystery is solved! Lieutenant Commander Poole was not properly registered because someone, somewhere, insisted she not be. You can be sure I'll also get to the bottom of _that!_ My contacts among the nurses tell me there's a girl in one of the isolation rooms; it must be her."

"I _knew_ you could help me!" Thomas gushed. "How do I find the room?"

More than happy to have someone finally recognize her skill at ferreting out information about _anything_ that happened at this hospital, Mrs. Vincent quickly pointed him in the right direction.

"Thank you!" Magnum crowed, planting a big kiss on the astonished woman's cheek.

"You're welcome," she replied weakly, incredulously fingering her cheek as the door closed behind him. _And I thought I'd seen it all in this job..._

*******

Thomas slowly opened the door to the isolation room. Sure enough, Maggie lay unconscious on the bed, surrounded by wires, tubes and equipment. A surprising surge of emotion washed over him; his heart thudded, moisture momentarily blurred his vision. _Oh, my God, she really is alive!_ But before he could get a good look at her...

"Who are you? What are you doing in here?!" 

Magnum whirled to face an irate nurse. "I'm Commander Magnum. Colonel Greene sent me to check on Lieutenant Commander Poole," he replied smoothly.

She peered at him suspiciously. "I have very specific instructions on who is allowed access to this patient, and _you_ are _not_ on that very short list..."

_Oh, boy, she's not going to be as easy to get past..._ "Look, nurse..."

She cut him off, "That's _Major,_ Commander."

_Terrific..._ He smiled and nodded deferentially, knowing that rank would get him nowhere. "Major... My apologies... But how would I even know she was here unless Colonel Greene sent me? We made sure she wasn't listed in patient records. All very hush-hush, right?" He raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders, doing his best to look completely innocent and unmenacing.

The major relaxed. This man could only know these things if he were a part of the operation. "Right, Commander. Sorry for the third degree, but my instructions were very explicit."

"No problem, Major... uh..." He raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Roberts, sir."

Magnum nodded. "Good job, Major Roberts, I'll be sure to report your attentiveness to Colonel Greene." 

Thomas turned toward the bed, struggling to keep any reaction to Maggie's condition from his face. Those SEALs hadn't exaggerated about the beating; someone who knew what they were doing had worked her over, but good. Cuts and bruises were bad enough, but the tube taped in her mouth sent chills down his spine. _Why is she hooked to a ventilator? Just how badly is she hurt??_

"She's stable?" he asked, forcing a casual tone that he didn't feel.

"No, sir, not yet, she's just barely holding her own," reported the nurse, the concern on her face plain. "Certainly was touch and go there for a couple of days. We weren't at all sure she was going to make it. She's still not out of the woods, not by a long shot, but her vitals are looking a little better. She's still sedated and on the ventilator to give her lungs a break while they recover from the water incursion. But no pneumonia, thank God." Her face hardened into a professional mask. "As for the rest of it, it'll take some time, but if she can make it through the next day or two she should recover."

_The rest of it?_ Her expression didn't escape Thomas, but he didn't have time to ask a lot of questions right now. "Thanks for the update."

"Actually, sir, your timing is great. I have to pick up medication from the pharmacy. Would you mind staying with her for a few minutes?"

"No, not at all." Despite his racing heart rate, Thomas was able to keep his voice calm.

"Thanks very much, sir. I'll be back in five or ten minutes." She held up a call button. "Just push this if there are any problems."

As the door swung shut behind her, Thomas snatched the chart from the end of the bed and started reading. Part of the record was clear, cataloging injuries she had received from the beating; lacerations, contusions, a bruised kidney and a cracked rib. There were a number of references to drugs he had never heard of; he quickly made a few mental notes. 

Knowing he had little time, he hurriedly turned to the next page. _GYN report? Why would there be a..._ He was only halfway through the thought when the word leaped off the page at him. His knees went weak, his breath caught in his throat. **_Rape?!_ **he thought incredulously. _SHIT! What the hell **happened**?!_

Magnum's head was spinning with shock, his thoughts racing wildly. Two entirely different people inhabited his body. One kept babbling in an almost incomprehensible whisper, _How? Who? Where? What went wrong? What happened??_ The other brutally shut out the shock and disbelief and went to work. _How is Buck connected to this? What happened? Why do they want everyone to think she's dead? Why are they hiding her here? And just **who** are **'they'**?!_ He had the chilling sense that he had walked into something very, very big, but he couldn't even distinguish the good guys from the bad guys. He spun around as the door opened.

Colonel Buck Greene stepped into the dimly lit room and stared silently at Maggie. His single focus the patient on the bed, he didn't see the room's other occupant. Thomas stared at Buck for one uncomprehending second, then it all fell into place. Dropping the chart, he charged the colonel, grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the wall. 

"**_You!_** _You_ sent her in there! You _knew_ what would happen! You _let_ them **_rape_** her!" His astonished voice rose nearly an octave and threatened to crack with rage. "You _son_ of a **_bitch_**!" 

Magnum had a bizarre sense of déjà vu; he and Buck Greene had played this scene before. The last time, the form lying on the hospital bed had been Lieutenant MacReynolds' dead, burned body, the result of a bomb planted in Magnum's car.

"Magnum, what the _hell_ are you doing here?"

"What's going on, Buck? What _happened_ to her?!" the taller man raged.

Greene hesitated for a moment and pursed his lips. "An operation went bad; her cover was blown," the colonel responded, leaving out all the horrific details that could have amplified the simple statement.

Greene offered no resistance as Magnum's hand tightened around his throat. Thomas' little voice was screaming; there was _so_ much more to this story than met the eye. Buck's face was scratched and his lip was split. He'd tangled with someone; probably someone who had something to do with this mystery. 

"What aren't you telling me, Buck?" Thomas demanded, shaking the smaller man like a rag doll. "There's more. _What?!_" Greene glared silently at him. "_Now!_" roared Magnum, veins in his neck bulging, eyes rimmed with red.

"We had an inside man," rasped the colonel, unable to speak properly for the pressure against his throat. Magnum relaxed his grip a hair. Greene continued, his strangled voice just above a whisper. "It was his job to rough her up a little. Nothing else was supposed to happen. Her cover wasn't supposed to get blown. I don't know what went wrong." 

_Why?_ Magnum demanded silently. _Why did you need everyone to think she was dead? Why beat her up? Why is she hidden here? **Why?!**_ "You **_set_** her **_up??_**" he snarled. "You _planned_ to have her beaten up? And the fact that she was raped was what, just _by accident??_" 

A bizarre transformation came over the colonel. He seemed to melt as he sagged against the wall, all the fight and bluster draining out of him. His eyes darkened and sunk deep in their sockets. His face fell, taking on an utterly haunted look. He was suddenly a beaten, defeated man.

"What else, Buck?!" _My God,_ he thought, _what's going on here? Buck looks like he just aged ten years._

"She wasn't supposed to get hurt," Greene choked out. "There's no more." 

Magnum knew it was a lie, but it was clear Buck wasn't going to provide any more information. Thomas's hand dropped away from the colonel's neck and he took a step backwards, staring at Greene in disbelief as Buck doubled over, sputtering and choking, trying to catch his breath. 

With a guttural exclamation of disgust, Magnum abruptly turned his back on the smaller man and focused his attention on Maggie. Sucking in a deep breath, he gently brushed her hair back off her damaged face as he exhaled with an explosive sigh. 

As suddenly as he had dissolved into the distraught man he had been only moments ago, Greene quickly regained his composure and was once again the arrogant, domineering colonel Thomas knew so well. Magnum couldn't escape the eerie feeling that he was watching two very different personalities vie for control of the man. 

"I don't know how you got in here, Magnum..." Greene paused to clear his throat. "Or how much you know about what's going on, but you're never gonna show up here again, and never gonna talk about anything you may have seen."

"You can't be serious!" Magnum blurted. "I don't know what else is going on here Buck, but Maggie Poole is my friend; I'm not going anywhere!"

"Stay out of it Magnum, that's an order!" barked Greene.

"I don't work for you, _Buck_. You can't just _order_ me out of here."

"Maybe not, but I can," intoned a voice from the doorway, "and that's exactly what I'm going to do. Stay away from this operation. Leave it alone. That's an order."

Magnum stared incredulously at the man in the doorway. A man he'd known for over twenty-five years, but whose tone and expression were now cold and uncompromising. "Admiral Hawkes? _You're_ involved in this?! You... and Buck... _again_..." Magnum's face darkened, his voice rose and hardened. "**Damn** you to **_hell_**! You _use_ people!" The taut tendons of his neck stood out in stark relief as he raged at the two men. "You used Mac, both of you, and he's dead! Then Michelle... Now Maggie... You're not only going to let him get away with this, you were a part of it!" he exclaimed furiously, gesturing toward Buck. "How many other times? How many other people? _How many more??_ Where the _hell_ does it **_stop_**, Admiral??" Magnum paused, his breath now coming in deep, shaky gasps. The admiral remained silent and expressionless. "How the _hell_ can you sleep at night??"

Admiral Hawkes stared evenly at the enraged man and continued the same flat tone. "You're _dismissed_, Commander. If you come near this room or this operation again, I'll have you thrown in the brig. Now, _get out_."

Magnum glared defiantly at the admiral, then at Buck. He turned to Maggie, gently placed one large hand on her forearm and spoke quietly and reassuringly, though his voice was still strained, "It'll be all right, Maggie, you hang in there. I'll be back in a while." He squeezed her hand gently and turned back to the other men. 

"God help you if anything happens to her," Thomas threatened, "because if _anything_ happens, I'll come after you. Both of you." He moved toward the door.

The admiral caught the younger man's arm as he neared the doorway, his eyes and voice softening. "I mean it, son. For your own good, forget about this."

Magnum glared at him with pure hatred, a depth and intensity to his stormy green eyes that few had ever seen. "I've told you before, Admiral, I'm not your son," he hissed as he ripped his arm free and stormed out.

Greene and Hawkes stared after him for a moment, then the admiral fixed Greene with a disparaging look. "You're not supposed to be here, Colonel."

"I know, but I had to be sure she was going to be alright. Everything else aside, I didn't want her dead." His jaw muscles rippled as he struggled to maintain a rigid control.

"Was it really _necessary_?" demanded the admiral.

Greene's eyes narrowed. "Yes, _dammit_, it was! I _told_ you it could get ugly, that we might have to play hard ball on this one. You knew the kinds of things we might have to do to get what we wanted. It's too late to go soft now; you're in too far!" 

"I _know_," the other man snapped. "But I didn't think it would get _this_ ugly," he admitted reluctantly. "Does Magnum know the whole story?"

"No, he thinks I sent her in on a mission and set her up for a beating; he doesn't know I was there. If he knew the whole story, he would have tried to kill me. _And_ you." 

The admiral pursed his lips. He'd known Magnum long enough to believe what Greene said was true. He'd badly misjudged his own ability to keep the commander in check. "Damn. Okay, Colonel, you were right. I should have listened to you and sent him to Washington. I thought we could avoid him." 

Greene stared evenly at the admiral. He had known they would have to deal with Magnum from the minute they'd decided to use Poole, and had tried for days to convince the admiral to send him away from the islands for a few weeks. The admiral's ego had ruined the attempt; he had been so sure they could control Magnum. Greene had been equally sure he was wrong, and now dearly wished he had taken matters into his own hands.

"Where are we with the deal?" Hawkes asked. "I want to finish this off as soon as possible." 

"The only good news is that I've convinced Vanh to set up a meet with the Cat. That's the guy with the money, and he's the one we have to contact to pull this off." Greene grimaced. "You don't really think that threat of yours will keep Thomas Magnum away, do you?" he asked skeptically.

"We both know better than that, Colonel." The admiral's face creased with worry, his expression drawn and worn. "We still have a problem. I'll have orders cut today to get him out of here, but I'm not sure he'll obey them, at this point."

The door opened, admitting a man dressed in a green Army uniform covered by a white lab coat. "Doctor," the admiral greeted him with a nod.

"Good morning, sir," the new arrival responded, an odd look on his face as he wondered about the identity of the angry man who had just rushed past him in the hall.

The admiral turned to Greene. "Dismissed, Colonel."

Greene hesitated; he wanted to discuss the matter further. Once he realized that wasn't going to happen, he narrowed his eyes and nodded curtly. "Sir," he said softly, just barely acknowledging the other's seniority for the benefit of the doctor.

When the colonel had departed, Hawkes turned to Brian Connolly. "Status?"

The doctor glanced at the monitors and found a pleasant surprise. "Far better, sir. It looks like her condition has solidly stabilized just in the last hour or so. Connolly reached over and shut off the ventilator for a few moments. Maggie's chest continued to rise and fall as she breathed evenly on her own. "Good... Good!" exclaimed the doctor. "We can take her off the machine and get that tube out. Then I can discontinue the sedatives and allow her to regain consciousness."

Though he made a quick attempt to mask it, the admiral's alarm was evident. "No!" he exclaimed just a little too stridently, his eyes widening involuntarily. "No," he continued more quietly, "I want her unconscious for now." _It would blow our whole plan if anyone knew what really happened out there._

"Sir?" a confused Connolly stared at the admiral. "May ask why? It would be far better if we could stop pumping so many medications into her." _Look at his face! What's he afraid of?? He told me she was briefed on the entire plan; why does he need her unconscious??_

The admiral's face hardened. "You have your orders, doctor. I'm not going to explain myself. Understood?"

"Understood, sir," the doctor responded crisply. When the admiral had departed, Connolly stared at Maggie. "What do you know that scares him so badly?" he wondered aloud. _This whole operation,_ he thought, _is beginning to fail the 'smell test.'_

*******

Magnum drove directly to Pearl, his thoughts whirling. _Why do they want everyone to think she's dead? No way she would have gone undercover with Buck; she didn't trust him. Someone must know something. Jarrett must have heard something, seen something... Or John..._ Although they'd had little contact since Magnum's return to the Navy, John Perry, the admiral's aide, had been Thomas' football teammate at the Academy. If there was any kind of legitimate operation going on, Greene's and Hawkes' aides would know about it. If not... Thomas preferred not to think about that at the moment; the implications were too astounding. 

The phone was ringing as Magnum entered his small office, his mind still a million miles away. "CINCPACFLEET, Commander Magnum," he answered absentmindedly, not even quite sure why he had bothered to pick it up at all.

"Magnum..."

"Higgins, what is it?" Thomas interrupted.

"I must speak with you, as _soon_ as possible!" The British voice was tight with stress.

"I'll leave now; be there as soon as I can." Thomas decided not to mention anything about Maggie over the phone. Paranoid? Maybe. But it was looking more and more like there might be damned good reason to be paranoid...

"_No!_" Higgins practically shouted. "This can't wait that long. I'll meet you."

"I'll be there." Magnum knew it had to be particularly urgent for Higgins to call him, and to so pointedly avoid saying anything over the phone. Higgins was not a man given to overreaction; the visits with Jarrett and Perry would have to wait.

*******

Higgins sped through the estate's front gate and turned the Audi onto Kalanianaole Highway, accelerating toward Honolulu at a rate well above the speed limit. Shortly thereafter, Magnum flew through the gate at Pearl Harbor. He and Higgins would meet at their prearranged location, the King Kamehameha Club. Whatever the British operative had uncovered, Magnum knew it had to be important; he had heard real stress in the other's voice, and that was a rare occurrence.

Long before he reached the club, Magnum heard a radio traffic report announcing a temporary closure of a section of Pali Highway due to a serious accident. "Damn," he muttered. His little voice screaming, he made a quick lane change, hit the exit for the Pali and raced toward the wreck.

Magnum didn't get far before traffic came to a halt. Although the accident was on the other side of the highway, he spent the next thirty minutes inching his way through gridlocked traffic. "Damned rubberneckers," he grumbled anxiously. 

Finally, he pulled to the side of the road nearly a quarter of a mile away and jogged down to where emergency crews had just succeeded in cutting a critically injured Jonathan Higgins from the wreckage of his car. Magnum spotted Lieutenant Page just as another HPD officer tried to keep him back from the scene. 

"Page!" The lieutenant turned and motioned the officer to let Magnum through. 

"Is it Higgins?"

"Yeah, but how did you know that? What the hell is going on here, Magnum??" demanded an agitated Page.

"I don't know. You tell me. He called and wanted me to meet him at the Club. I was on my way there when I heard about the accident on the radio, and here I am. What happened?"

"Witness said he was forced off the road. Hit and run. The car rolled three or four times and landed upside down. He's still alive, but it's not looking good."

Magnum hurried to where the ambulance crew was preparing their patient for transport. He had hoped Higgins might be able to talk, but the man lay unconscious on a stretcher, strapped to a backboard, head and neck immobilized.

"Will he make it?" Magnum demanded of the paramedics.

"I don't know, it's gonna be real close," one of the men responded without looking up.

Magnum caught the man's arm as he moved past. "Did he say anything?"

"What?" asked the surprised paramedic.

"Did he _say_ anything? Anything at all?? It's _important_."

"Uh, yeah, actually, he did. Just before he passed out. What was it... Something about his keys, and finding his cat. But we didn't see any cat around. Sorry I can't help you more than that, brah."

"Let's go, man," shouted the other paramedic. "This guy's in bad shape, we gotta move!"

As the ambulance pulled away, Thomas stood beside Page with his hands on his hips, wondering what Higgins could possibly have been talking about. The reference to the cat, he understood. Not a housecat, but _The_ Cat. Undoubtedly Higgins had uncovered some information so sensitive that he was unwilling to relay over the phone. But keys? "Why would he be worried about his keys?" he muttered.

As soon as Magnum said the word out loud, he knew _exactly_ what it meant. For a second, he stood stock still, his mouth hanging open in complete shock. "Oh, my God," he gasped. _Already?_ Adrenaline surged through him as he turned and headed for his car at a dead run.

"Magnum!" yelled Page.

Thomas skidded to a stop. "Page, have you got a radio in your car?"

"Sure, but what's going on, Magnum?? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"Maybe I have. Call dispatch. Get them to patch you through to 555-6843."

"Magnum..."

Magnum exploded. "Lieutenant! I'll explain later. _Please!_" 

Page eyed Magnum with a perplexed stare. It was clear that the man was badly rattled; it was equally clear that Page was not going to get an explanation as to why. The lieutenant picked up the microphone with a grimace, requested the patch, and handed the instrument to Magnum.

"Carol, I don't have time to explain. I'm going to be stuck at work this afternoon." Magnum tried to keep his voice calm, but found he had a hard time not shouting into the mic. "Could you please go pick up Lily and take her to Malia's birthday party? You'll have to leave now to get her there on time. I'll pick her up later. Thanks a lot."

"Sure, Thomas, but what's going...?" Magnum broke the connection before Carol could finish the question.

"One more call, Lieutenant, 555-5371."

Page impatiently made the necessary connection.

"Rick? Remember that swing set I ordered for Lily? It's here. Think you and TC could help me put it together this afternoon? I'd like to surprise her with when Carol brings her home."

"Sure, Thomas. No problem. I'll be over later. See ya." 

Magnum tossed the mic to Page. "Thanks, I owe you."

"Magnum, hang on! What the _hell_ is going on??" Page yelled after him, his arms spread wide in frustration.

"I can't tell you that, Lieutenant," replied Magnum as he sprinted away toward his car. "If you really want to help, find the guy that ran Higgins off the road; I've got a few questions to ask him," he yelled back over his shoulder.

*******

Carol grabbed her purse and checked to be sure the gun was there, and loaded. Her mind raced as she hurried to her car. She knew that only the most grave of circumstances would keep Thomas from Lily. The birthday party was a codeword for getting Lily to the safehouse that Thomas had set up. Thomas had worked with Carol for weeks, teaching her how to use a gun, how to spot a tail, how to lose one. The fact that she had now been charged with Lily's safety also meant that something had happened to Jonathan. And where were Rick and TC? And Maggie? She was the fifth-string backup, and she knew it. Her heart was pounding and her hands were shaking as she swung her car out of the parking lot and turned toward Lily's school. What the hell was going on??

*******

As soon as the call from Magnum disconnected, Rick quickly punched in a phone number and waited impatiently for an answer. "TC? Thomas needs help with Lily's swing set. Can you give me a hand?"

"You bet," replied TC. "I'll meet you at the estate."

TC and Rick were both moving fast as they slammed down their phones. They grabbed weapons and ammunition and hurried to carry out their respective assignments. The fact that the shit had hit the fan didn't surprise either of them. That it had happened so soon after the last time was more than just a little disturbing.

*******

Brian Connolly hesitated for a moment before finally injecting the contents of the syringe into Maggie Poole's IV line. He waited, heart thumping. He knew he was disobeying a direct order, but he also knew that there was something very wrong, and the only person who might have answers for him was his patient. He watched as she stirred.

As Maggie emerged from drug-induced oblivion, the entire room spun in a slow, stomach-churning spiral. Unsure where she was, or what had happened, she attempted to move, only to be hit by wave after wave of pain and nausea. She groaned and made an unsuccessful attempt to open her eyes.

"Maggie?" The voice seemed to come from above her, and from very, very far away.

Maggie tried to answer but only managed the tiniest croak. Her throat was on fire, raw and painful. Breathing hurt. Her chest felt heavy and congested; movement brought a sharp, localized pain to her left side. Her head was throbbing so badly she thought she might be violently ill. 

_Where am I? What happened?? Accident? Can't remember..._ She made another attempt to open her eyes and finally succeeded in cracking her puffy left eye open. Her right eye was swollen completely shut. She lifted a shaky hand to her face. _Bandages..._

Someone gently pulled her hand away from her face and held it. "It's alright, Maggie. Relax." It was an unfamiliar voice, but curiously soothing. _Whatever happened,_ she thought, _I must be in bad shape._

Blurry blobs of light swirled through her diminished field of vision. She could hear the voice, but was unable to focus. A man with a mustache and brown hair emerged from a swirl of light. "Thomas?" she croaked, her voice just a whisper. Her eyes snapped shut and her face contorted in pain. _Why is my throat so sore??_ Her lips and mouth also seemed swollen and uncooperative, and she was having a hard time forming words.

"No," the man responded quietly. "I'm Dr. Connolly. Brian Connolly. Take it easy. You're in a hospital. Do you remember what happened?" Connolly wished he could do something to ease her pain, but even the presence of a few ice chips would be dangerous if someone walked in on them. _This won't take long, and I can get her sedated again._

Maggie knitted her brow, trying to remember. "No..." Her vision cleared enough to see that the white-coated man did indeed have a mustache, but was shorter than Thomas. But she was sure that Thomas had been here. She _knew_ she'd heard his voice... 

Maggie felt like she was being smothered in a soft, suffocating blanket. She couldn't think, couldn't remember what had happened or why she should be in a hospital. But, there was something... Something about a boat... Suddenly, a kaleidoscope of images flashed through her mind. A sunny day... A boat... Asian men... Pain... Blood... A gun... _Buck..._ _Oh, God..._

As the doctor watched, Maggie stiffened, her breath caught in her throat, and a horrified expression spread across her face. Machines beeped and whirred, displaying with dispassionate precision the quick jump in her heart rate and blood pressure. _She remembers_, he thought morosely.  
  


"It's alright, Maggie," he repeated. "You're safe here. I want to help, but we don't have much time. Who's Thomas?" _At least I hope she's safe here,_ he thought as he watched her struggle to formulate an answer.

"M-Magn..." her voice trailed off weakly.

_Damn, the sedatives are keeping her too groggy to help much. No matter what I pump into her to bring her around, that's not gonna change right now._ "Magnum? Is he a SEAL? A commander?" Maggie managed a weak nod. "He was here," Connolly continued. "With the admiral and the colonel."

Maggie's one good eye flew open as wide as her injuries would allow and she began to shake uncontrollably. "Adm'l? Col'nl?" Her breath was now coming in hyperventilated gasps. "Names?" she demanded in a terrified whisper.

_What in blazes is she afraid of?!_ "Easy," he soothed, placing his hand over hers. "Admiral Hawkes and Colonel Greene came in to check on you."

_Oh, my God!_ "No... Not safe! Have to... get out... here," Maggie gasped, making a panicky attempt push the sheets away and get up from the bed.

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy! You're in no condition to go anywhere." The doctor caught her as she sagged sideways with a deep groan, her face contorting in pain. He eased her back on the pillows. 

"Why, Maggie? _Why_ isn't it safe?!" _Why is she so afraid of those two? She was cut in on the whole deal, wasn't she?? There's something she knows about Hawkes and Greene that I don't know, that's for damn sure!!_

"B... Bu..." She tried to tell him; tried to warn him, but the room was spinning again as pain and sedatives took control, and she was unable to get the words out.

_Shit!_ He heard footsteps in the hall, headed his way. _Why_ did Hawkes and Greene scare her so badly? "I want to help, Maggie. Who can I trust?"

_Trust?_ Maggie thought groggily. _Not you... Not anyone..._

Connolly glanced over his shoulder toward the sound of the approaching footsteps. "Maggie! Quickly!! _Please!!_" _Damn, out of time,_ he thought as he inserted a needle in the IV line and pushed the syringe's plunger home.

His eyes were honest. She never saw the syringe in the doctor's hand. If she had, she might not have said a word. "Thomas... K-Kath'rine..." she finally whispered, her voice fading as she slid back into unconsciousness. 

Connolly had just enough time to slip the empty syringe into his pocket, arrange the sheets neatly around Maggie's still form, and pick up her chart before the door popped open.

"Any change?" demanded Admiral Hawkes, dispensing with pleasantries.

The doctor looked up from the chart he appeared to be studying. It took careful concentration to control his breathing and display a calm he certainly didn't feel. _What's he doing back so soon??_ "Good afternoon, Admiral. She's…" 

Hawkes cut him off. "What's wrong?" he snapped. Although Maggie's chest rose and fell evenly with regular, steady respirations, rivulets of sweat coursed down her flushed face.

"She's developed a fever," the doctor lied smoothly. "I don't know why. Maybe pneumonia. Maybe some other infection." _Let's see if what they say is true ... the best defense..._ He stared hard at the older man. "Who raped her, admiral?" he continued angrily. "Does he have any _diseases_ I should know about?!" _Let the son of a bitch sweat..._

"I don't know." His voice hoarse, his bravado gone, the admiral's shoulders sagged as he dropped his gaze to the floor.

_Don't know who raped her, or whether he had a disease? Which question did you just answer, admiral?_ Connolly wanted to grab the other man by the front of his crisp white shirt and shake the answer out of him. The doctor's initial sense of unease had grown to an absolute certainty that something was terribly wrong, but he didn't have all the pieces yet. The admiral knew _much_ more than he let on. 

But Brian Connolly knew how things worked, the politics involved. He had been around long enough to realize that if he pushed this man too far, he'd be out in the cold just as surely as Magnum was, and if that happened, he couldn't help Maggie at all. So he limited his outburst to comments appropriate for a doctor concerned about the medical condition of his patient, when in actuality his concerns had expanded to include questioning the loyalty of two very senior officers.

Connolly took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. "I have to run some tests, admiral," he said, his deferential tone belying the rage he felt toward the other man. "I'll call you as soon as I have results."

"Will she be alright?" The admiral sounded tired and worn out.

"I can't say for sure, until I can determine what's wrong, sir. So far, her organs seem to be functioning normally, but it would be better if she weren't sedated unnecessarily." _Let's see what you do with that one, **admiral**._ Connolly managed to contain the sarcasm; the admiral saw only a fixed, unreadable poker face.

Hawkes' expression hardened as he shook his head. "Sorry, doctor. Unless her life is in danger, I still want her sedated, and I'm still not going to explain myself. Call me when you have answers." He walked out without waiting for Connolly's response.

Brian Connolly stared at the empty doorway and shook his head slowly. He looked back at his patient. Had she been conscious, she would have seen him purse his lips, squint his eyes, and come to a crucial decision. He knew that what he was about to do could mean the end of his career, or worse, but a man had to be able to look himself in the eye...

*******

A thin, dark haired Caucasian woman in her late thirties entered the dingy, dimly lit Honolulu bar and looked around carefully before taking a seat at a secluded booth in a far corner. Although it was lunchtime, the run-down establishment was nearly empty. She ordered a beer and sat quietly in the shadows for nearly twenty minutes until a tall, wiry Asian slipped into the seat on the other side of the table.

"I assume we have a mutual friend," she declared flatly after looking him over.

"Yes. He sends his regards," responded her companion coolly.

"What brings him out from under his rock this time?" she snapped caustically. She was none too happy about being summoned here during the day and having to make excuses for leaving work early.

"He wants information, of course." The Asian spoke quietly and evenly, with no inflection in his voice or emotion on his face.

"Of course. About what?"

"Weapons sales. Colonel Greene."

She smiled coldly. "And what makes him think I know anything about weapons sales?"

"He's confident you will have answers for me."

"For you?" She looked him in the eye. "No, I speak only to him, not through his lackeys."

The man's face darkened at the insult. "He directs that you give the information to me."

"He doesn't _direct_ me!" she snorted. "Our business here is finished." She rose abruptly from her seat and walked quickly to the door. The man made no move to follow, but sat impassively and watched her go.

As she exited the building, a large, hulking Asian stepped to her side, grabbed her arm, and shoved a gun against her ribs. "Please, get in," he whispered in her ear, propelling her toward the long, black limousine sliding to the curb beside them. She climbed in slowly, and as she settled warily into the comfortable leather seat beside a third large Asian, she felt the sting of a needle in the side of her neck. She was unconscious before the car pulled away into early afternoon traffic.

*******

Rick pulled in behind Carol just as she left Lily's school. He watched the two climb into the car, the little girl happily unaware that anything was amiss. Carol, on the other hand, looked like a wreck, and understandably so. TC had gone ahead with Alicia to secure the area around the safehouse; Rick would watch Carol's and Lily's backs as they proceeded across the island.

Rick was beginning to think the trip might just be uneventful when a small, non-descript sedan suddenly pulled out ahead of him. Carol noticed the car and picked up speed. Before the sedan could do the same, another car backed from a driveway right into the middle of the street. Though he slammed on the brakes, the driver of the sedan was unable to avoid a collision with the other car. Rick was astonished to see none other than Agatha Chumley, all afluster, emerge from the driver side door of the second car.

"Oh, my! Oh, my!" Her hands flew to her face as she hurried around the car. "I'm _so_ sorry!! Is anyone hurt?? Please forgive me. I simply never saw you!"

Two large Caucasian males leaped from the other car, one waving his arms and shouting, "Get outta the way, you stupid broad! We're in a hurry!!"

Rick was completely flabbergasted by what happened next. Before anyone realized what was going on, Agatha produced a small automatic pistol. She was no longer the least bit upset. "Please gentlemen, don't move, and keep your hands where I can see them," she ordered tersely. "I assure you, I can shoot you both before either of you can reach a weapon."

"Agatha?!" Rick blurted, his mouth hanging open in astonishment.

"Rick, I believe Carol still requires your assistance. I'll be fine here; backup is just moments away."

"But..." Rick sputtered.

"Go!!" she ordered without taking her eyes off the two captives.

Not wanting to let Carol get too far ahead, Rick climbed back in his car, swung quickly around the other two vehicles, and sped up the road. Just before he rounded the curve a few hundred yards away, he saw a van pull up beside Agatha. The side door of the van slid open, and the two men were quickly shoved inside. _What the hell was that??_ Rick thought wildly as he desperately tried to refocus on his original mission.

*******

"That was _unnecessary_!" the thin woman raged. "Ugh," she grunted, squeezing her eyes shut, leaning forward in her chair and rubbing a hand over her forehead. Her head felt as though she'd gone fifteen rounds with a prizefighter.

"On the contrary, Tanya, it was altogether necessary. I had to be sure you had not been compromised," responded the man standing in front of her. He was Asian, in his early forties, stocky and handsome, with a shock of thick, black hair. "I see we can still trust each other. I apologize for the headache. Here, this will help." He held out a glass of water and two small pills. 

_We never trusted each other,_ she thought, glaring suspiciously. _Who is he kidding?_

"Aspirin, my dear, nothing more," the man added with a humorless smile. 

Commander Tanya Davis's thoughts drifted back to the spring of 1981. 

They'd met on the beach, at Waikiki. She was a lieutenant, assigned as a communications officer at Pearl Harbor. He was the charming, handsome young man who had parked his beach towel next to hers and offered to rub suntan lotion into her back. She was instantly attracted to him. And he to her, apparently. They had talked for hours on the beach and had agreed to keep in touch.

Having had tired of men whose objective was often nothing more than casual sex, Tanya Davis had long ago dismissed the idea of relationships and had poured her time and energy into her career. She was smart and tough, and her career had flourished, but over time she had also become terribly lonely.

He said his name was Quang Tran. He had arrived from Vietnam about a year earlier, a refugee who escaped on a harrowing voyage aboard a small boat. An electrician by trade, he had found work with a local contractor. It had given her a moment's pause that he was from Vietnam, but he was from the south. He'd been persecuted by the communists. She'd seen the hideous scars on his back; he'd told her they were from the terrible beatings he'd received at the hands of the North Vietnamese. 

Quang had been kind and thoughtful, and so very gentle. No man had ever treated her with such genuine warmth and affection. He listened to her, talked to her. He told her she was beautiful. He was everything the other men in her life were not. Despite herself, she had fallen head over heels in love with him, never once questioning anything he told her. She remembered the long walks on the beach and talks far into the night over fine wine. She remembered the night he had gently pulled her to a stop her as they walked along the warm sand, gathered her into his arms, kissed her passionately and told her how much he loved her. She had hesitated, briefly, but he had looked deeply into her eyes and said, "I'll never hurt you. Trust me." 

Quang's small, neat apartment wasn't far from the beach. He was an incredible lover, knowing exactly how to make her both body and mind respond with explosive power. Maybe for once, Tanya thought, something good had come into her life.

They had been sleeping together for just over a month and were cuddling in bed when Quang had casually asked which company she thought might get the contract for rewiring one of the buildings at Pearl Harbor. Surprised, she'd answered that she didn't know there was even a contract pending. 

"If I could find out some details before my company's bid goes in, it would make me look very good in the boss's eyes," he'd said with a boyish grin. 

"Always looking for an angle," she'd teased. 

"Always," he had whispered, and then had silenced her teasing with a smile and a series of warm kisses that started at her lips, moved down her neck, and quickly made her forget there was anything important in the world besides this amazing man. 

Naively thinking Quang's request harmless enough, Tanya had made a few inquiries and had given him some details that might help him. He had thanked her in some very creative ways...

*******

Tanya and Quang sat lounging on the lanai after dinner a few weeks later. "You look a little tense, darling," he said, rising from his chair and moving behind her to massage her neck with his warm, strong hands. "Something wrong?"

"No, not really. Just the usual work nonsense. Certainly nothing I want to waste _our_ time talking about." She smiled and arched her neck back, enjoying his ministrations. "Mmm, that feels good," she purred, resting her hands on top of his.

He grinned. "I do enjoy making you feel good..." he murmured. 

After several moments, Quang broke the silence. "There is something I've been meaning to ask you," he began. "I find myself in another of those situations where I need information that you might be able to find for me."

"Quang," she replied, suddenly uncomfortable, "it depends what the information is." She pulled away from him, reached for the wine bottle, and refilled her glass. "You know I could have gotten in trouble over that contract."

Quang grinned. "But you didn't, did you? Tanya, no one ever noticed! Sometimes you worry too much," he chided as he sat down next to her.

Somewhere in the back of her head, alarm bells started ringing. Bells she should have listened to -- would have listened to, except that she put too much faith in the man she had fallen in love with. A man she hardly knew. But Quang would never do anything to harm her... _Maybe he's right, maybe I do worry too much._ She grimaced mockingly and looked at him through half-closed eyes. "What information?"

"I knew you wouldn't let me down!" he exclaimed, his eyes glowing. He looked furtively around the apartment, as though expecting to see someone, and then continued quietly. "There is a man, in my country. I have heard he is trying to organize a resistance movement, to take back our land from the Communists. They call him The Tiger. He has people here, supposedly, in Hawaii." Quang slid to the edge of his seat and grabbed her hand. "I have to find them, Tanya," he continued fervently. "I want to join them."

Tanya took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Quang, I wouldn't even know where to look for something like that." _And the few places I can think of are all classified..._

"But you'll try?" he pleaded.

"I'll try," she answered with a nod and a forced smile. _Why is he so impossible to resist?_ she wondered, dismissing the alarm bells that were still vying for her attention.

*******

"You found something?" Quang asked excitedly, opening the door wide to admit Tanya. It had been just a few days since he'd made his request, but Tanya had called and said she'd be over with some information.

"Yes." She paused to exchange a quick hug and kiss, but he could see she was tense and uneasy. "But what I found is pretty sensitive information. It's not classified, obviously, but, even so, I could really get into trouble if anyone knew I gave it to you."

He cupped her cheek in his hand. "I would never want to cause trouble for you!" The earnest concern in his eyes eased the tension from her muscles.

Tanya produced a single sheet of paper – a memo marked "Sensitive." It made reference to the fact that the Tiger was recruiting on Oahu, but was lacking any detail at all. Quang's face darkened. "I know all this already!" he exclaimed, his voice tight with frustration.

Quang's tone made Tanya shiver with apprehension. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, dropping her gaze. "I didn't mean to let you down."

"Oh, I'm sure you won't let me down, darling," Quang continued silkily. 

_What's he talking about,_ she thought, her uneasiness deepening. He was smiling, but it was an expression that did nothing to reduce her anxiety level. 

Suddenly, a disturbing transformation came over Quang's face. His eyes hardened, his lips narrowed, and the muscles along his jaw rippled as he clenched his teeth. "I need that information! I know it must be there someplace. I know," he paused, peering at her from behind half-closed eyelids, "some of the classified files _must_ contain the information I seek..." 

"Quang," she replied uncomfortably, "you know I can't look into classified files."

"Tanya," he said so sharply that made her physically jump, "I haven't been entirely honest with you. I need that information about the Tiger, and I need it _now_." His voice was hard, uncompromising, completely different from the warm tone he had always used with her. "The truth is, I don't want to join the Tiger. I want to catch the _traitor_."

Tanya's knees turned to jello. This was a side of Quang she had never seen. A cruel, cold side. What did he mean? Was the Tiger working for the North? "Traitor?" she managed to whisper, the alarm bells in her head now a full cacophony.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, my love. Because I do love you; you must believe that." He grabbed her gently by the shoulders. "These scars on my back are not from beatings by Communists. They were inflicted by the dogs from the South, when I was no more than a child." An enigmatic smile and a far-away look crossed his face. "The men on your side called me 'Viet Cong'."

Tanya felt the room swirl around her. _Impossible... It can't be... He can't be one of them..._ "Oh, my God." Within a few seconds, rage enveloped her. She pulled loose from his grasp and backed toward the door. "How _could_ you?? I _trusted_ you!!" 

"Where are you going?" he asked evenly.

"I'm getting out of here... I never want to see you again... _Ever!!!_" she managed to sputter.

He chuckled evilly. "You think it's that simple? You just walk away? You better have a look at these first." 

She stopped in her tracks as he pressed 'Play' on the VCR. _Tapes..._ He'd made tapes of their love-making. _Dear God..._

"I have hours of wonderful material," Quang hissed. "Oh, and these are some old family photos." Tanya reached numbly for the pictures he offered. A recent photo of Quang in a North Vietnamese Army uniform, standing beside another officer. Another of a younger Quang displaying fresh, livid wounds on his back, receiving treatment from a man who she assumed was a doctor, though he also wore a NVA uniform. 

"Then there's this." The bankbook he handed her revealed a rather large bank account, in her name. 

"The fact is, however, I'd rather not have to use any of this. I'd rather we worked together. I've grown quite fond of you," he concluded with a smile.

She was unable to answer, still trying to absorb the enormous shock of the situation. "Work together? You can't be _serious_," she finally managed to gasp.

His face hardened. "I am absolutely serious about one thing. You _will_ help me find the Tiger, or this will all become _very_ public..." He swept an arm past the pictures and the television.

Tanya's knees gave out. She sat down hard on the edge of the couch and dropped her head into her hands. _How did I ever get to this point?_ Quang walked over and gently rubbed her back. "It will all be okay. Trust me." His words were gentle, a warm smile had returned to his lips, but his eyes remained as hard as black flints. 

*******

Tanya looked at the papers in her hand. If she backed out now, told someone what was going on, she could put an end to this. Yes, she would be humiliated, and her career would be over, but she could probably still avoid jail. As soon as she walked out of work with this file full of classified information, there was no going back. She had been unable to find anything specific about the Tiger; she was too junior to have access to that kind of information. But she had located some information about Vietnamese dissident groups that might satisfy Quang. She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, folded the sheets of paper into a small rectangle, and slipped them into her pocket. _Maybe no one will notice. I'll give this to him and never speak to him again. That will be the end of it._ If only she hadn't been quite so naïve...

*******

The heat of the summer of 1981 gave way to more pleasant late October weather as Quang continued to press for information about this Tiger, but she was unable to find anything specific. 

Then, in early November, there was a gun battle in Little Saigon. One of the dead men she had seen in highly classified photos was the same man standing beside Quang in the photos he had shown her; Quang's brother, she learned, a North Vietnamese colonel. The whispers at work were that the colonel himself had been the Tiger. Tanya found this hard to believe, but as time passed without any contact from Quang, she assumed that her problems were over, that the Tiger was dead, and that she would never hear from Quang again. 

*******

And so Davis's troubles did seem to be behind her. It wasn't until nearly four years later, in 1985, that Quang's associates came knocking on her door. Quang was in prison, in Vietnam, they said. Both he and his brother, the late colonel, had been falsely accused of trying to overthrow the government. They needed to expose the real Tiger so they could free Quang. They still had the pictures, the tapes... 

Tanya was more senior now, with more access to more secrets. She had only been mildly surprised to discover that the Tiger was none other than General Nguyen Hue, one of the top generals in the North Vietnamese Army. If she remembered correctly, his wife was French, and had been working with the Americans during the war. 

It meant nothing to Davis when, in early 1986, she delivered the Tiger, General Hue, into the hands of his enemies. And once again, she hoped it was over...

*******

Tanya had been astonished to open her door one day early in the summer of 1987 and find Quang standing there. "Hello, my dear." She stared without answering, frozen in shock. "May I come in?" She numbly opened the door just enough to admit him. 

Despite herself, she felt a momentary pang of longing for the man she had once, briefly, shared her life with. She closed the door and stood just inside, her arms crossed in front of her. "What do you want?" she asked icily.

"I wanted to thank you for assisting in my escape, and for vindicating my brother. We are a proud family; our honor has been restored," he said formally, before continuing in a more gentle tone. "I've missed you, Tanya."

"Is that all?" Her tone remained harsh.

"No," he replied with a cold smile. "I'll only be here a short time, but I require your assistance again."

"Naturally," she retorted.

"You know that Madame Hue escaped Vietnam." He wandered through her living room, picking up knick knacks, looking at pictures of her family and friends.

"Michelle. Yes. What of it?" She knew that Michelle Hue and her young daughter had fled Vietnam in 1986, shortly before her husband, General Hue, was exposed and executed based on the information Tanya had provided to Quang. Someone (Quang, she had always assumed) had attempted to abduct Michelle in Hawaii, only to be thwarted by Thomas Magnum, the same man who had killed Ki's brother in Little Saigon. Michelle and her daughter had quickly gone into hiding.

"And did you know that she was here, in Hawaii, just a few weeks ago?"

"No, I didn't know that," Davis responded with genuine surprise. She usually heard about such things. "Why?"

"I assume you also know that someone made an attempt on Magnum's life?"

"Yes. He should be dead, from what I hear." Just a few weeks ago, someone had pumped two bullets into Magnum's chest and left him for dead in a warehouse.

"I should have put a bullet in his _head_, as well," Quang muttered, his face darkening.

"So it _was_ you!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening. "I wondered..."

Quang paced angrily back and forth across the room. "Yes, it was me. But my vengeance is not complete until that _bitch_ Michelle is _dead_. I _knew_ she would come out of hiding if I killed Magnum, and I would be rid of _both_ of them. But the incompetent fools I hired _missed_ her when she was here. She has escaped me for the _last_ time! I _must_ know where they have hidden her." He stepped in close to Tanya, his face just inches from hers. "_You_ are going to find out for me," he hissed.

"I have no idea where she is, Quang," Tanya replied tiredly. "Why is this so important? Why not just let her go?"

"_No!_" he roared, grabbing Davis by the shoulders and shaking her. "She helped destroy my life! Her lover killed my brother! Her husband imprisoned me!" His voice quieted to a vicious whisper. "She _dies!!_ She has escaped me for the last time. Hue is dead. Magnum survived, damn him, but within days he, too, will be dead. Once he is out of my way, I will _finish_ her."

Tanya nodded woodenly. She didn't know this man. This was not the same quiet, gentle man who had shared her life for those few months so many years ago. This man scared her.

"Find me the information," he commanded coldly. "And don't disappoint me, my dear. I have little tolerance for failure, and the consequences can be rather ... permanent..." Then, in a bizarre twist, he had kissed her gently on her unresponsive lips before departing and leaving her alone.

Davis stood stock still, shaking, for several long minutes. Quang had always threatened to expose her as a traitor, but he had never threatened her safety before. Perhaps it was time to consider a permanent departure from Hawaii. But, no, if Michelle were dead, there would be no reason for him to bother Tanya again. Just this one last bit of information, and she would be free of Quang. _But this time,_ she thought, _he's going to have to pay for what he wants._

It had taken two days of hard digging to discover Michelle's whereabouts. Tanya knew she had exposed herself, if anyone took the trouble to look, but there was only one place she could think of, deep within classified computer files, where the information might be buried. She felt no remorse as she revealed Michelle's whereabouts to Quang; it was just one more life... 

A few days later, Quang lured Magnum to the same warehouse where he had so nearly died once before. The Asian hesitated just a moment too long before firing at Magnum, and Thomas was able to dive to safety. Quang had underestimated both the degree of Magnum's recovery from his injuries and the American's deep-seated compulsion to eliminate any threat to Michelle, and it almost cost him his life. Only TC's timely arrival had prevented Magnum from killing Quang, who was subsequently arrested and charged with attempted murder. 

The autumn of 1987 passed uneventfully, with Quang in jail, awaiting trial. Then, without explanation, the charges against him were mysteriously dropped at a pre-trial hearing in January of 1988, and Quang promptly disappeared. Tanya had not been surprised to hear, a few days later, that an explosion had torn apart Edward and Michelle Durant's car, killing both of them, the driver, and Michelle's daughter, Lily.

Hue was dead. Michelle was dead. She doubted that Quang would come back after Magnum, and even if he did, it wouldn't require _her_ help. Once again, she had hoped that her association with Quang was finally over. Yet again, she had been wrong...

"What could you possibly want from me this time, Quang?" Tanya asked wearily. "Hue and Michelle are dead. You don't need me to get to Magnum. Why are you back?" She had heard that Magnum had nearly killed Quang during their second encounter at the warehouse. She found herself wishing that he had been successful.

"I want information, of course. It would seem our friend Colonel Greene has entered the weapons market. I need to know who he's working for. Is he on his own, or is he undercover?"

"Greene?" she snorted. "I can't _imagine_ anyone would send him undercover right now. He's lost it. He's on the edge of a breakdown, drinking like a fish. You should _hear_ the stories coming out of that office!" she chuckled. 

"He never recovered from Michelle's murder." She smiled as though recalling a pleasant memory. "He took the heat for screwing that one up, you know. They blamed _him_ for her cover being blown." _Made my day, watching that,_ she thought with a wicked, contented smile, thinking how much she despised Buck Greene.

The Asian smiled malevolently. "We paid you well for that information. You made it easy for us to do away with the traitorous bitch."

"No complaints. Strictly business." At some far distant point in time, she had decided that if she were going to continue to provide information to the enemy, she should get paid for it. And she demanded that she be paid well for the information that had led to Michelle's murder. 

"However," she continued, "on this new issue, I've seen nothing at all on weapons trafficking. As far as I know, NIA doesn't have any operation underway. And as I said, Greene is virtually useless. In fact, he's disappeared. That disgustingly perky little lieutenant commander over there, Poole, went and got herself killed, and they can't even find Greene, her CO. He's on leave, supposedly, but not at home, not answering his phone or his door. Probably off on another bender, drunk off his ass out in the jungle someplace."

"My dear, you have no idea how useful it is to know that the colonel is so ... alone..." Now he could take action. _Greene is on his own, with no backup. Magnum will come after me, if properly baited. Perfect..._

*******

"Don't move." Brian Connolly stopped in his tracks; the command was enforced by the cool metal of a gun barrel pressed against his head, just behind his ear. Connolly considered it a victory that he hadn't wet his pants. In his seventeen years in the Army, he'd never had the business end of a weapon pointed at him, and he damn sure didn't like it.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" the voice continued.

"I'm looking for Thomas Magnum." At least his voice wasn't shaking.

"Why?"

"I'd rather tell him." Despite the gun, Connolly's confidence was growing just a little.

"Turn around, _slowly_. Keep your hands where I can see them." The gun was no longer touching his head, but the doctor was sure it wasn't far away as he turned to face the other man.

"Magnum," Connolly sighed with relief as he recognized the man who had rushed past him in the hall at Tripler early that morning.

"And you are?" The gun was still trained on Connolly's chest. The other man's face was closed and untrusting. After the calls to Carol and Rick, Magnum had hurried to the estate, ostensibly to collect clothes for Lily and bring them to the safehouse. But he assumed he was being watched, so his route would take him to the north shore, nowhere near Carol's and Lily's destination. Upon exiting the guest house, he had seen a shadowy figure furtively making its way along the beach, and had decided on a surprise greeting.

"I'm Lieutenant Colonel Brian Connolly, Maggie Poole's doctor." Connolly noticed that while Magnum was no longer aiming the gun directly at him, he also hadn't put it away. It was obvious to the doctor that he wasn't the only one who suspected something was amiss and didn't know who to trust.

_That's why he looks familiar. I saw him this morning. No telling who he's working for, though,_ thought Magnum. "What are you doing sneaking around here? This is a private estate; you could have gotten hurt."

"I don't have much time, Magnum. As I'm sure you suspect, something very big is going on, but I don't know what. The admiral gave me a direct order to keep Poole sedated, but I disobeyed that order." Connolly looked at his feet for a moment, then met the other man's eyes. "Hawkes and Greene terrify her, and I don't know why." 

"Why come to me?"

"Who am I supposed to go to?" Connolly demanded heatedly. "The FBI? The CIA?? What if I'm wrong? I could blow the lid off a legitimate operation! I could get someone killed..."

"And if you're right?" Magnum asked quietly.

"If I'm right, Maggie could be the only witness to treason. Or worse..." Connolly pursed his lips. "Time ran out before I could get anything useful out of her. But she said I could trust you. You and someone named Katherine."

"I have to talk to Maggie."

Connolly shook his head. "You can't. Hawkes and his people show up at all hours of the day and night. It's too dangerous. I have no idea who's reporting directly to him; could well be some of my own staff, for all I know."

Magnum's face darkened as his free hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of the doctor's shirt. "What's going on, Connolly?!" he demanded, shaking the other man. "Why do they want it to look as though Maggie is dead?? What are they up to? And _who_ are _they??_"

Connolly exploded in frustration. "I don't _know, damn it!_ All I can tell you is that I was ordered to prepare a drug cocktail that would simulate death. She was supposed to be shot with the concoction and tossed overboard off a yacht. I was told Poole knew all about it, though there was 'no time' for her to meet with me. Next thing I knew, she was flown in to Tripler all beat to hell, her lungs full of water, and _almost_ didn't make it!" 

Connolly paused. His next words, once spoken, couldn't be taken back. He took a deep breath. "I don't know whose side the colonel and the admiral are on any more." 

_Thrown overboard off a yacht?? What the hell? Why go to so much trouble to make it look like Maggie was dead?_ Magnum would have liked to stand right there and analyze every bit of available information, but there wasn't time. Ki was out there somewhere, and that put Lily in danger. He had to move fast. 

Thomas released his hold on Connolly and nodded. "Okay. I don't know what's going on, either. Only that it's dangerous as hell, and we're going to have to tread very lightly. We can't trust anyone except each other right now. Agreed?" 

"Agreed. I have to get back to the hospital, or someone is liable to start suspecting _me_ of something, and then I can't protect Maggie."

"Look, I don't have time to explain, and you don't have time to listen, but it's important that no Vietnamese get anywhere near Maggie. No one. Got it?"

_Oh, man, more spooky shit..._ "Okay, but I want to know why... Later..."

"Deal," agreed Magnum. "Now, get out of here."

Connolly nodded and moved quietly back down the beach in the direction he had come.

Magnum climbed into his car and made a meaningless visit to a non-descript house on the north shore before returning to Honolulu.

*******

"Running won't bring her back, Lieutenant, and it won't make the hurt go away."

A trim young woman with shoulder-length strawberry blond hair looked up toward the vaguely familiar voice behind her as she sat on the grass stretching. "No, sir, I know, but it helps," Katherine Prescott replied. Although he was dressed in jeans and an aloha shirt, she recognized the man and climbed to her feet to face him.

Magnum had never met Prescott. He knew only that she was a lieutenant assigned to NIA, and Maggie's friend. _ And Maggie told Connolly we could trust her._ Maggie couldn't have known that Ki was nearby, or she would have told him; Thomas knew that for a fact. His little voice was telling him that Ki, Greene, the weapons, and Maggie were all related; he just didn't have all the pieces to the puzzle. Both Maggie's and Lily's lives were at stake, and right now Prescott was the only person at NIA he could even consider trusting. 

"My name is Thomas Magnum," he continued. 

"Yes, sir, I know who you are," she replied carefully. She knew that he was Maggie's friend, and she was afraid that if she allowed one iota of emotion to surface, she would fall completely apart.

As she turned to face him, he froze, staring open-mouthed at the piece of jewelry hanging just above her running singlet. "Lieutenant, where did you get that pendant?" he asked sharply.

She reached up and fingered the piece – a gold French croix set in a black and gold oval background. "Sir, with all due respect, I'm not sure it's any of your business," she replied softly, "but my father gave it to me ... when I was a little girl."

He continued to stare at the pendant, and slowly raised his hand to point at it. "May I?"

Katherine wondered what it was that had spooked the commander so badly. Maybe it was something in his eyes, but she felt she could trust him. She nodded slowly, removed it from around her neck and handed it to him.

Katherine watched closely as Thomas laid the pendant in the palm of his hand and stared intently at it. Ever so slowly, as though afraid of what he might find, he turned it over. As he read the inscription on the back, twenty years melted away. _Saigon, 1968_

"C'mon, Magnum, you gotta get you one – it matches the ring."

Thomas smiled. "And just who am I gonna give it to?"

"Ginger comes to mind," replied his companion with a sly smile. Both men were dressed in wrinkled camouflage fatigues, their skin and clothes saturated with sweat and grime. It was hot, there was mud everywhere, and the air fairly dripped with humidity. Magnum was a raw, green ensign, having arrived in Vietnam only a few weeks ago. The sounds and smells of this part of the world were still new and foreign to him. 

A sad smile crossed Magnum's face as he shook his head. "Nah, 'fraid not, Tex. Not gonna work. Ginger decided to give her tennis career a real shot, so she broke it off."

"Damn, sorry to hear that, boy." The tall, red-headed man clapped a hand down on his young companion's shoulder. "But you gotta get right back in the saddle, now. No mopin' around, hear? Otherwise 'fore you know it you're gonna wake up one day and be thirty-three -- an old man like me -- and have no one to share your life with. You stick with me, son, and we'll raise some hell and have us some fun! 

Now, you buy yourself one ah these pendants. I'm gonna get me one for little Katie. Apple of my eye, TM. You'll see what I mean, if you have yourself a daughter some day. The ex, y'know, she doesn't think much of me, but Katie..." He clicked his tongue and smiled wistfully off into the distance for a moment. "That girl's got me wrapped right around that little finger ah hers. Go on, boy, buy the damn thing. You'll find yourself a lady one ah these days."

Alan "Tex" Prescott was a boisterous, irreverent good 'ole boy from Texas. He was older than Thomas, Naval Academy Class of '58. He fought hard, played hard, drank hard, and chased women all over Southeast Asia. Thomas could never really blame his ex-wife for hating him; Tex left her when their daughter was just over a year old. Tex's loud, good natured demand was hard to ignore, so Thomas had indeed purchased a pendant on that day – one that matched his team ring.

It was Tex's second tour in Vietnam, Magnum's first. The older SEAL watched over the young members of the team like a mother hen. "I brought y'all out here; I'm goddamn sure gonna do my best to bring y'all home alive," he'd bellow as he taught them everything he knew about survival. "You been trained, back there at home? Great... Welcome to the real world, boys." Tex was one of the best in the business, having been key to making the SEAL program what it was. The men who were fortunate enough to come under his tutelage had a considerably better chance of going home in one piece. But less than three months after Magnum arrived in country, Tex Prescott was dead...

"Sir?" Thomas blinked. "Sir, are you okay?" _He looks like he's seen a ghost._

Thomas stared open-mouthed at Katherine for a long moment before answering. "You're little Katie." He had always wondered what had become of Tex's daughter.

It was Katherine's turn to feel as though she'd been tossed rudely into the past. It took a few seconds to find her voice. "No one's called me that in years. Only my father called me Katie..." A pained, faraway look replaced the concern in her light green eyes. "He never came back…"

Thomas nodded and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I know," he said. _And I know what it feels like be a little kid and lose your dad._ "I'm sorry. Your father was a good man." He reached down and fastened the pendant back around her neck.

"I'm not sure my mother would agree with you on that one," she commented ruefully, rubbing one finger gently over the surface of the cross, "but I loved him." She dropped her gaze and cleared her throat noisily. 

Thomas changed the subject, trying to give her a minute to regroup. "I see you followed him to the Academy," he commented softly, gesturing toward the ring on her left hand. "What class?"

"Yes, sir, class of eighty two," she answered proudly. She grinned, despite herself. "Pissed my mother off like you wouldn't believe."

_God, she's young,_ he thought.

Her expression sobered once again. "You knew him... My dad..." Magnum nodded. Katherine paused for a long moment and shook her head. "But that isn't why you're here..." 

"No," replied Magnum, staring intently at her. There wasn't time right now for the past. Later, he'd tell her the stories. "Let's take a walk." 

_What's going on now??_ she thought. She looked him in the eye; intensity, honesty and open pleading returned her gaze. And pain... There was so much pain in those eyes. She fell into step beside him.

"Lieutenant… Katherine... I'm going to tell you something you may find difficult to believe. I don't have time to explain, but it's very, _very_ important you don't react. Understand?"

_Understand? Understand what??_ The raw intensity in his eyes assured her of the magnitude of his words, but... _I don't understand a damned thing._ She nodded.

"Maggie is alive." Three simple words. Katherine staggered; Thomas grabbed her elbow to keep her from falling. To her credit, she managed to keep her face impassive, beyond a brief widening of her eyes. "Keep walking. Someone may be watching." He glanced around warily as she quickly regained her footing.

_What the hell?? Is it possible?? Do I dare hope...?_ "Alive? How?" she croaked.

Magnum shook he head. "Too long a story right now. She's hurt. She'll recover, but she's in danger, and I need your help."

Katherine nodded numbly. "Of course, but what can _I_ do?"

"There's a leak someplace, Katherine. I don't know where. There's no one in the Navy we can trust. _No one_, understand? It's just you and me."

Her mind was whirling. _No one? Dear God, who do I trust?? Him?? Maggie always did..._ She swallowed hard. "Okay," she replied with a slow nod. "Now what?"

*******

Buck followed Vanh through the door, all his senses on full alert, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. _Have I missed something? Damn... Needed more time to set this up... Has this thing gone bad?_ The answer arrived in the form of a fist driven deep into his abdomen by a man who stepped from the shadows to the right of the doorway. As Greene doubled over, blinding pain exploded across the back of his skull. He crashed to the floor, the world spinning in an ever-tightening spiral, his vision tunneling to a pinpoint of light, then nothing. _Shit,_ he thought, as he tumbled into a vortex of inky blackness, _thought we were gonna pull this one off._

*******

Within an hour, Katherine and Thomas were hunched over a computer terminal at NIA. He had filled her in on most of what he knew during the drive to the base, less the ugly details about Maggie's condition. Katherine's initial search for information about The Cat had turned up no new information. She knew she would have to delve into some of the more highly classified files if she were to find the information Magnum seemed to think they needed. _Thank God he has the clearances for this,_ she thought, wondering how Maggie had ever dared stick her neck out so far for this guy before he came back to the Navy.

Katherine generated another search, one that resulted in two files they hadn't seen before. The first file confirmed the fact that Ki was The Cat, something that she found impossible to believe hadn't been briefed to the admiral. The second file made no sense to her. It mentioned Molokai, but much of it was in a foreign language. "Commander, do you know what this means?" She pointed at a phrase on the screen.

"_Bup__ Be..._" He felt his heart begin to thud. The Vietnamese accent marks were missing, but... _Doll..._ He swallowed hard. "Doll... That's the Vietnamese word for doll," he managed to choke out. _The same word I heard Lily say on the tape when she jumped out of the car to go back to the house for her doll... "Bup be, Mama..."_

"Are you all right, sir?" _His face is white again... What have I gotten myself in to?!_

"I'm fine," he snapped, instantly sorry he had taken his hurt out on her. "What else have we got?" he continued more quietly. 

"Something about Molokai and a doll. It doesn't make any sense," she murmured, perplexed. She clicked back to the first file. "I never saw this. Can't imagine why it was never briefed... And who was the analyst?" A few more clicks of the mouse revealed the originator of the document, deepening Katherine's confusion. "What the heck?"

"What is it?"

"This was written by Commander Davis..."

Thomas's brow knitted. He, too, realized that there would be no reason for a communications officer to be generating or accessing these files. His eyes narrowed. "Davis?? Can you tell what other files she's been looking at?" he asked, his voice tight.

Katherine sighed and shook her head. "I already tried. I'm pretty good at this, but not that good. There are definitely hidden files in here, but I don't know the database well enough to find them."

"Who does? Someone we can trust."

"Well," she hesitated. "I know he's a con artist, but y'know Mac is a genius with this stuff."

"_Mac??_" Thomas knew she was right, but this wouldn't be easy. "We'd have to get him in here. You got a problem with that?"

Katherine winced. "If we can't trust anyone in the Navy, I don't know anyone else who can help us." She looked him in the eye; he returned her steady gaze. "Maggie's in real trouble, right?" she asked quietly.

Thomas nodded solemnly. "Yeah..."

*******

Buck slowly came to, his head throbbing and his stomach rolling with nausea. He was blindfolded and immobilized, his arms and legs tied tightly to the arms and legs of a low-backed chair. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. _Big mistake,_ he thought, as spikes of pain shot through his skull. _Where am I?_ There were no traffic sounds. He thought he could hear the ocean not too far away, and the wind whistling through trees, but both were muffled, as though either there were no windows in this room or they were closed.

_Click, click, click..._ Someone wearing what sounded like an expensive pair of shoes moved deliberately across the tile floor and stopped in directly in front of Buck. Suddenly, the blindfold was whipped away, and Greene blinked painfully as the late afternoon sunlight streamed into his eyes through the nearby window. As the man standing in front of him slowly came into focus, Buck's gut tightened and his eyes widened involuntarily.

"I see you remember me."

Greene said nothing. The other man, the same stocky Asian who had met with Tanya Davis earlier in the day, grinned evilly. "Yes, Colonel, **_I_ **am The Cat. And _you_ are not going to get in my way."

_Ki__... Quang Ki._ A man Buck Greene would never be able to forget. 

_Play it out,_ thought Greene. "In _your_ way?" he growled. "Last I checked, I was the guy with the C4 for sale." 

"I don't need your help," sneered Ki. "I have plenty of sources."

"_And_ access to the information you need to protect your shipments?" Greene retorted. "I'm the only one offering to provide you that information."

Ki stared silently at Greene for several long moments. "What you don't seem to understand, Colonel, is that I don't _care_ whether or not you betray your government. This is entirely personal," he finally hissed. "And as you can see, I have set my 'big toe' in your country again, but you don't appear to be in a position to do anything about it." 

_Game's over,_ thought Greene. _This has nothing to do with arms shipments. This is old business, and I am in deep shit._

The Asian's face darkened. "It will give me particular pleasure to do away with you, Colonel. Do you have any _idea_ what happened to me after you and General Hue and that _bitch_, Michelle, told the world that my brother was the Tiger?" He leaned forward toward Greene's face. "_DO YOU??!!_" he roared, his face a deep red. "Do you know what it was like to be known as the brother of a traitor??" 

Ki straightened and began to pace back and forth. His voice dropped to a sinister growl. "I was stripped of my rank, stripped of my freedom. Thrown into prison ... into hell! Beaten more times that I could possibly count. Beaten nearly to death." 

Ki stopped in front of Greene again. "It took me six long years to escape and to expose Hue as the Tiger. I believe you saw the pictures." Ki smiled coldly at the memory of Hue's dead body tied to a post, a single bullet in his head. "And you know what I did to his wife," he continued with a malicious smirk.

_Yes, I know what you did to her,_ thought Buck, his throat tightening in anguish. _I paid the price for it too, both professionally and personally. No one ever knew how close I came to walking away from the Corps after you killed Michelle. I was supposed to protect her!!_

"Now my revenge is almost complete. I got Hue... I got Michelle... I have you... And Magnum will be along any minute now. Once he knows I'm here, he won't be able to resist." Ki loomed over Greene and spoke quietly. "I want just one piece of information before I kill you. Where is Magnum's bastard child hidden?"

Greene pursed his lips. _So that's what he wants._ "I have no idea," he answered honestly.

Ki backhanded Greene across the face, bloodying his lip. "You try my patience. No doubt you have continued to protect the little brat. She has escaped me for the last time."

Greene shook his head and scowled. "After what you did to Michelle, _why_ would Magnum trust _me?_ He didn't want us anywhere near the girl. Can you blame him?"

"Yes, I see your point," Ki responded, remembering with great relish the tape that documented Michelle's violent demise. "Nevertheless, I'm sure you know where she is. Make this easy. Tell me."

"I don't know where she is, but if I did, I goddam sure wouldn't tell _you!_" Greene was cut off by Ki's fist crashing across his face. The chair teetered, but landed back upright on four legs. 

"Let's try again, Colonel. Magnum has hidden her." 

_Thank God,_ thought Greene, _Somehow he knows Ki is here._

Ki grabbed the chair behind Greene's shoulders and rocked it back on two legs, his face just inches from Buck's. _"Where is she?!"_ the Asian bellowed, his face contorting with rage.

Greene saw no point in continuing to answer in the negative. _Just roll with the punches, _he thought._ He's probably not going to beat you to death. Not right away..._ Ki stepped away from Greene, then suddenly whipped around and landed a vicious flying kick to Buck's head, sending the chair crashing over sideways. 

Buck groaned deeply as Ki's men pulled the chair upright and Ki whispered malevolently in his ear, "What was it you said to me, Colonel? You would 'rip my heart out, through my throat'? Yes, I think that was it. Perhaps I can show you how it is done..." 

After several more vicious kicks and punches to Buck's face and torso, Ki stepped back and contemplated his prisoner. 

"Where is she, Colonel?" the Asian demanded. Greene glared back defiantly as blood flowed from fresh gashes on his face and saturated the collar of his shirt. 

Ki paced the room angrily for several moments, still breathing hard from exertion. Gradually, his breathing slowed and he took on a sinister calm. "You never had the pleasure of being a 'guest' in North Vietnam," he commented. Something in his voice made Buck's skin crawl. "Pity. Vanh tells me you enjoy inflicting pain - quite an impressive display, raping and killing the girl." 

Ki turned to a nearby table and picked something up. "I remind you, I am familiar with many, many creative methods of persuasion. And so I wonder Colonel..." He turned back to Greene wearing a thin smile of pure evil and extending his hands to present the length of thin rope now draped across them. "Do you enjoy pain as much when you are on the receiving end?" 

Buck's stomach twisted in knots and a trickle of cold sweat made its way down his back. _Ropes_... He had heard the stories, first hand. Seen the scars. He could not have imagined the pain...

Ki nodded to his men. They cut Buck loose from the chair and slammed him face down on the floor, one man digging a knee into the middle of Greene's back. As the two quickly fastened loops of rope tightly just above each of Buck's elbows, a fresh layer of sweat appeared on his face. He steeled himself against what he knew was coming. The men rolled him to his side and threw their weight against the ropes, pulling Buck's elbows toward each other behind his back until they nearly touched. Their captive gasped, then moaned, desperately trying to endure the sadistic treatment in silence.

"You did say you liked pain, didn't you, Colonel Greene?" taunted Ki.

Buck felt as though his breastbone might explode through his chest as he lay writhing, hopelessly trying to ease the pain now gripping him.

Ki squatted beside Greene. "The girl, Colonel… Where is she?" he asked softly. His wheedling tone sounded almost apologetic, but his eyes were stone cold.

"Go to hell," Greene spat.

"I'm so sorry you feel that way." Ki nodded to the men, who grunted with the effort of drawing Greene's elbows tightly against each other.

The agony was mind-blowing, all-consuming, blotting out everything he knew, everything he had ever cared about. **"_Aaaaggggghhh__..._"** Greene uttered one guttural, strangled cry, then his mind went blank as everything was lost in long, tortured screams...

Ki watched impassively as Buck's agonized screams reverberated though the room. Once the Asian was sure his efforts would eventually produce the results he desired, he knew there was no point in remaining, except to take pleasure in Greene's suffering. _I'm hungry_, he thought. "I'll be on the lanai, if he wants to talk to me." Ki knew full well that Buck Greene was nowhere near ready to talk. But he would be -- in time. "Have Trong bring me some dinner," he added, leaving his two men to enjoy the show.

As the initial groundswell of agony passed, Buck's screams were reduced to sobbing gasps. He knew it was his own voice he had heard screaming, and it surprised him in some detached way that he wasn't embarrassed by his loss of control. He had expected to be beaten, but this level of torture had caught him by surprise. Horribly so. He caught his breath and tried to marshal his resources. When he could form a coherent thought, he tried to occupy his mind. _Bastard... I'll kill him... No, don't think about him. Think... Stay alive... Use what you know... Recite the Code... **I am ... American fighting man ... serving in the forces ... guard our country ... our way of life.** Survive... Have to survive... **Prepared ... give my life ... their defense. Never surrender... In command ... never surrender my men... Captured ... will continue to resist ... all means. Make every effort ... escape ... aid others to escape.**_ Buck stifled a panicked sob. _There are no others... I'm alone... All alone..._

*******

It took Thomas and Katherine two hours to track down Mac and slip him in to NIA while Katherine distracted the security guard. _I must be insane,_ she thought. Mac tapped away at a keyboard while the other two watched impatiently. After several minutes, a long list of file names appeared on the screen. "This is what she's been looking at," declared Mac. "Does it make any sense?"

"I know she shouldn't be looking at most of these files," said Katherine, "but I'm not sure it goes beyond inappropriate curiosity."

"Oh, my God," exclaimed Magnum under his breath.

"What?" the other two asked in unison.

"She's the leak. She has to be! Look. This file," he pointed, "this one, and this one. All of those operations were compromised!" 

Suddenly, the color drained from Thomas's face. "Mac, what's that?" he asked in a strained voice, pointing to a particular filename.

"You mean _besides_ passworded and highly classified?" Mac asked dryly.

"Can you get in?"

_Shit, he's going to let Mac hack the system. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all._ "Commander..." began Katherine.

Magnum cut her off. "Not now, Lieutenant!" He fixed her with a hard stare. "You're either with me, or you're not. Here's your chance to walk away, but one way or another, I'm going to see that file!"

Katherine took a deep breath and stared at him for a moment. "I'm with you, sir," she affirmed quietly.

"Mac..."

"Well of _course_ I can get in," Mac sniffed disdainfully. "I can get in to _anything_... It'll just take some time." For the next several minutes, Mac worked on the file, carefully side-stepping the security measures designed to keep people away from the information.

"Got it," Mac declared.

Magnum read over his shoulder. After only a few lines, Thomas backed away in stunned disbelief. His stomach lurched, his knees went weak, and he might have fallen were it not for the desk behind him with which he collided. He gulped for air as though he'd been running; sweat streamed down his ashen face. 

"Davis saw that file?" Thomas choked out. Mac nodded miserably. "When?"

"She accessed it last December," Mac responded quietly. Both he and Katherine realized what Magnum had already surmised; Davis had read this file, revealing the secret location of Edward and Michelle Durant, just two weeks before Ki had had their car blown up. Davis told Ki where to find them... She was just as responsible as Ki was for Michelle's murder...

_It wasn't Buck's fault, after all,_ thought Thomas. _It was one traitorous act..._ "Michelle..." His broken whisper twisted the others' hearts. He stared vacantly into the distance, powerless to stop yet another showing of the scene that had replayed itself in his mind's eye a thousand times, ten thousand times, over these last months, invading his sleep, his daydreams, intruding upon his very soul; the horrific blast that had taken Michelle from him forever. He squeezed his eyes shut tight against the vision that he was utterly unable to banish. 

Mac gripped the other man's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Magnum." Katherine stared silently at the two, at a complete loss for words, doubting she could say anything that would help.

Magnum opened his eyes slowly. A murderous glare had replaced the raw agony there. "Go back up to that second file, Mac." His voice had taken on a deadly calm. The other man silently opened the file that Thomas and Katherine had looked at earlier. "Ki's on Molokai. She put this file here deliberately."

"But that means it's a trap," exclaimed Katherine.

"Or an invitation. Time to _finish_ this!" Magnum declared fiercely.

Thomas, Katherine and Mac departed NIA quietly. When they reached the parking lot, Magnum turned to his companions. "I'll take it from here. Thank you. I know both of you took a big risk for this."

"There must be something we can do to help, Commander," insisted Katherine. "Can't we go to the police?"

"_No!"_ Magnum's eyes burned with rage, his voice was ragged with emotion. Katherine had never seen that kind of an expression on a human face before. "I told you before, no police! This is personal. I did it their way last time, and Ki walked. That's not going to happen again!" Magnum turned and climbed into his car without another word.

Katherine and Mac stared after him. She was concerned that Magnum might jeopardize his newfound career. Mac was more far more worried about his life...

"I'll give you a lift home, Mac," offered Katherine.

"Thanks, I appreciate that," he replied absentmindedly, still staring after Magnum's car.

As they approached Mac's apartment, Katherine finally spoke up. "Mac... We can't just sit here. There must be something we can do to expose Davis as a traitor without jeopardizing Commander Magnum's plan. We could go to Five-0."

Mac knew he couldn't get involved with Five-0. Somehow those Marines that Five-0 had in custody were tied in to this, and the minute they laid eyes on him, he'd be behind bars, too. "I'm sorry, Katherine." He stared out the window. "There's nothing I can do to help."

"What do you mean you can't help? Can't? Or _won't_??" she sputtered angrily as they slowed to a stop in front of Mac's apartment.

Mac shook his head and looked over at her, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I just can't. I'm sorry. And I can't explain. Thanks for the lift." He climbed out of the car and walked away as Katherine stared incredulously after him.

*******

_I definitely must be crazy,_ thought Katherine. _I should have called Five-0, no matter what Commander Magnum said._ She sat in her car, a block from Davis's apartment, watching. Not wanting to jeopardize Magnum's plans, and completely perplexed by Mac's behavior, she had decided to take action on her own. _I've never followed anyone before. I don't know if I can pull this off without getting caught._ Her heart started pounding as the lights in the apartment went off. _Either she's turning in awfully early, or I'm about to find out if I'm any good at this crap._ She slid down in the seat as a car exited the parking area and merged into traffic. _Why am I not surprised... Well, at least we're not the only two cars on the street._

When the other car was a couple of blocks away, Katherine pulled away from the curb and followed at what seemed like a discreet distance; she was glad it was dark. It didn't take long to figure out that they were headed for the airport. _Now what do I do? Tackle her? How the hell do I get hold of Five-0 at this hour??_

Katherine parked the car and followed Davis on foot as she entered the Honolulu International departures terminal. _United Airlines.__ There's just one more flight tonight... To __San Francisco__.__ She could go anywhere from there._

Katherine found a pay phone and pulled out the card that Detective Williams had given her just yesterday. _Yesterday... Before I knew anything about anything... I hope he's either at the office or at home,_ she thought as she slipped a coin in the slot and dialed the office number. "Five-0," a familiar voice answered on the first ring. 

"Commander McGarrett?" asked a surprised Katherine. "What are you doing at the office so late?"

"Katherine?"

"Y-Yes," she stammered, not at all sure how to proceed. She would really have preferred to talk to Williams. McGarrett was too good at this.

"What is it? Is something wrong with your mother?" Steve McGarrett asked anxiously.

"No, no. She's fine. There's, ah, something else I need to talk to you about."

"Okay, but what can I do to convince you to call me Steve?" he chided gently. "Your mother and I _have_ been together for almost eight years."

_And hasn't that made my life at NIA a lot harder than it had to be,_ she thought bitterly. "Mr. McGarrett... Steve... I'm at the airport, and I think maybe you should get out here. Do you remember Commander Davis?"

"Yes..." he answered, his voice taking on an urgent tone. "Why?"

"Well... I, ah... I think she might be doing something she's not supposed to be doing... At work... And she's about to get aboard the redeye for San Francisco. United Airlines..."

McGarrett cut her off sharply. "Katherine, do you know anything about a set of pictures of Davis and Quang Ki that were delivered to Lieutenant Page at HPD about an hour ago, along with some other paperwork?" he barked.

"No," she answered, bewildered. "Why?" _On second thought, though, I could take a pretty good guess at who did have them delivered..._

"We've been looking for Davis. It's critical that we find her. You're sure it's her?"

"Positive," confirmed Katherine. "The flight leaves in forty-five minutes."

"We're on our way. Stay away from her, Katherine. She's dangerous." 

_Don't I know it,_ thought Katherine sourly. "Don't worry, I'll keep my distance." _But one way or another, she's not leaving this airport._

*******

Ki returned from dinner, settled in to a comfortable armchair, and casually lit an expensive cigar. He watched impassively as Greene struggled against the unspeakable pain being inflicted upon him. Ki could see that he tried to remain still, to let the pain reach some measure of equilibrium. Ki's men knew better than to let that happen. They made sure that Greene's position was adjusted every few minutes, to ensure the pain never stayed quite the same, that new and different nerves were insulted, producing surges of fresh misery.

Greene's world had contracted to the bubble of agony now enveloping him. He hardly realized his tormentor had returned. After a while, however, it grated on him that the other man did nothing but sit and watch. _Survive... Keep thinking... Make time pass... ** Prisoner of war ... keep faith ... fellow prisoners.** Shit, there are no fellow prisoners... I'm alone... No! Focus... Forget the pain... **Senior ... take command... If not... follow lawful orders...** Lawful orders? Admiral? Were his orders lawful? Where's the line? **Questioned ... name... rank... service number... date of birth... Evade answering ... further questions ... utmost ... my ability.** Evade answering... There... Focus on that... But Ki's just watching... Ask me something, dammit!_

After some time, the cigar finally spent, Ki rose and stood over Buck, who lay helplessly on his side. Ki leaned over, grabbed the little finger on Greene's left hand, and slowly bent it backwards until Buck gasped in pain. _My hands aren't as numb as I thought._

"Let's try again, Colonel... Where is she?" 

_Evade answering._ Tortured gasps whistling through gritted teeth constituted the only reply. 

_*Snap!*_ Buck's entire body convulsed and he groaned deeply. He nearly retched as the bones and joints of his finger gave way, but he clamped his jaw shut and managed to stifle another scream. 

A perturbed look crossed the Asian man's face. By now, he usually had whatever information he sought from another human being. He had expected that Greene would take longer to break than most men, but now he was frustrated at the delay, and wanted answers. 

"Perhaps something easier. Tell me, where does your sister live?"

"Angie..." Greene gasped. _Nooo__..._ "D-Dallas..."

Ki exploded. He kicked Greene over onto his stomach, grabbed his wrists, and levered his arms up and away from his back. "You lie!!" Ki screamed. "Your **_sister_** is married to a Navy **_pilot_**. He's **_deployed_**. They live on **_Mon_**terey **_Av_**enue, in Coro**_na_**do, Cali**_for_**nia. Her **_phone_** number is 555-6**_7_**4**_3_**." With each emphasized syllable, Ki slammed his weight against Greene's arms, forcing them farther from his body while he held his captive's torso to the ground with his knee. Buck was only distantly aware of the other man's ranting; his mind went blank as his ears filled with the hideous sounds of muscle and sinew stretching and ripping and his own renewed screams...

Ki let Greene's arms fall and stood over him for a moment, panting with rage as his helpless captive thrashed in agony. 

_Can't take any more... Help me... Someone... Please..._

Ki lifted a glass of ice water from the table and took several long gulps. "Thirsty, Colonel?" he hissed. 

Greene made an involuntarily attempt at swallowing, resulting in a paroxysm of strangled coughing. His throat was bone dry. _Thirsty... No shit... Bastard..._

"Good," continued Ki with a malevolent sneer. "Dehydrated muscles cramp so much more _readily…_" he snarled, aiming a vicious kick at Buck's ribs.

Buck was still reeling from pain and shock when Ki made a folding motion with his hands. Ki's men sat Greene upright on the floor and began to tie each of his ankles to a chair leg. Through a red haze of pain, Buck realized what they were doing. _No!!!! I can't!!!_ Adrenaline surged through him as he made a panicked attempt to prevent them from tying him down. Buck kicked and thrashed wildly until one of the men smashed a fist into his kidney and he sagged with a groan. 

With a swiftness born of experience, Ki's men slipped a length of rope under Greene's arms, wrapping it around his upper back and under his legs. One man pressed a knee against Buck's back and forced him forward, folding him in half at the waist. _Nooo__! _ Buck knew what was about to happen to him, but was powerless to stop it. He felt as though his back might snap in two as the men cinched his chest and shoulders tight against his thighs, leaving him trussed like a captured animal with his head between his knees. 

_Please don't... Don't finish it..._ He knew there was more coming, and once again tried to steel himself, but it was a feeble effort.

**_"Agggggghhhhhh!!!!"_** An explosion of mind-blowing, shattering agony on a scale that Buck could never have imagined enveloped him as, finally, the men slammed his bound arms up and away from his back, as Ki had done. When his arms were over his head, and rotated well past the perpendicular, the men ran a length of rope from his wrists to his ankles and pulled it taut, pinning his arms forward in an impossible position.

White-hot pain ripped through every nerve in Buck's body. It stole his breath, wiped his mind clean of all coherent thought. He screamed, but produced only a gurgled, sub-human cry, a faint approximation of the scream his lungs no longer had the air to produce. He sat groaning, quivering, hovering on the edge of consciousness, silently begging for a descent into oblivion. 

Ki squatted beside him. "Don't _ever_ lie to me again, _Buck_. Think about it for a while; maybe your memory will improve." He stood and jerked his head; all three men walked toward the door. "Sleep well, Colonel," sneered Ki. He snapped off the light switch and closed the door behind him, leaving Greene in total darkness.

Buck was fully engulfed in an inferno of agony. Having absolutely no control over himself, he continued to scream, but produced only squeaks of torment. Pain was not an unknown to him; he had sustained serious combat injuries in Vietnam, and the healing had been long and slow. But never in his life had he experienced suffering on any level that even approached what he was now going through. It was unimaginable, indescribable... 

Sheets of unbearable pain crashed over him, each piling on top of the last. Though his hands and arms had long since gone numb, terrifying in itself because of the increasing possibility of permanent damage, his legs, back, shoulders and chest were on fire. His tortured muscles were already cramping viciously; his hamstrings stretched so taut that they felt as though they might snap away from his bones. With each agonizing breath he tried to draw, he could feel his shoulders slipping farther from their sockets in a slow-motion dislocation. He tried to adjust his position by the few millimeters the ropes would allow, but the only result was wave upon wave of new suffering. Thirst ate at him, his throat so dry it was difficult to breathe, making it harder yet not to succumb to total panic. 

_Help... Someone... Please... Can't do this... No! Keep mind occupied... Survive... Recite... **Never forget ... American fighting man ... responsible ... my actions...** Responsible... For Maggie... Noooo... **Trust ... God ... United States of America.** Oh, God... Just words... I'm alone. No one knows where I am. Maggie... Is this what I put her through? Once they find out... They'll abandon me... Expendable..._ A sob caught in his throat._ No! Don't give up. Keep fighting... Hang on... Don't let him win... Can't take any more... **I am an American fighting man... **_****

Even for grownups, there can be monsters in the dark...

*******

"Going somewhere, Commander?"

Tanya Davis whirled around to see Steve McGarrett standing behind her. She had positioned herself so she could see anyone approaching up the concourse, but McGarrett and HPD officers had come in behind her, through a door leading to the ramp. She turned to run, but collided with Dan Williams, who had appeared from the other direction. "I wouldn't," said Williams, catching her by the arm. "Resisting arrest would be a fairly petty charge at this point, but I hate paperwork," he added as he twisted her arm behind her and applied handcuffs to her wrists.

"So, we meet again, Commander McGarrett." Her eyes were wide, but her voice dripped with venom. "I never did like you."

McGarrett squinted. "Believe me, Commander, the feeling is entirely mutual. But you weren't expecting _me_, were you? Who are you running from? Ki? Did you finally outlive your usefulness to him?" 

McGarrett smiled triumphantly. "You know, I'm retired from the reserves now. This is my day job." His voice hardened and the smile disappeared. "And you're _finished_. Tanya Davis, you're under arrest. Suspicion of espionage and conspiracy to commit murder, among many, many other charges. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say..."

"I know my rights, McGarrett. You don't have to recite them," she spat.

"Nevertheless, _Commander,_ I want to be sure you hear _every_ word," snapped McGarrett, reeling off the remainder of the Miranda warnings for her.

_So close,_ she thought, not bothering to listen. _So damned close._ "You can't prove a thing," she sneered.

"Oh, can't I?" McGarrett's eyes were cold and hard. He thrust his fist in front of Davis' face and snapped his fingers up one by one as he rattled off the evidence. "I have the computer files... I have witnesses to your meetings... Pictures... Bank account statements... And that's just a start."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "How did you get those? Those are offshore..." She bit off the rest of the incriminating statement.

"You'd be amazed what we can come up with," McGarrett said bluntly.

"No matter," she smirked. "In this state? I'll plead the charges down to nothing."

"That's where you're _wrong!_" McGarrett snarled in her face. "These are _federal_ charges. They'll be tried in a _military_ court. The only thing you're going to be pleading for is your _life_." McGarrett's face had turned crimson with rage. "You cost _too many_ good people their _lives!_ And you're going to _pay_ for what you've done!" he thundered, his hand once again balling into a fist.

Duke Lukela grabbed McGarrett's arm, afraid he might take a swing at Davis. "Easy, Steve, easy. She's not worth it."

McGarrett took a step backwards. "You are _damned_ lucky these other officers are here!" His voice had become murderously low, and edged with a pain that was plain in his eyes as he continued. _"Edward Durant was a good friend of mine!"_

Davis stared wordlessly at him, but the color had drained from her face.

McGarrett took a deep breath. "Get her out of my sight, Danno! Lock her up until we can turn her over to the military."

"Let's go." Williams grabbed Davis by the arm and led her toward the ramp door.

McGarrett closed his eyes for a moment to try to regain his composure. He and Durant had been friends for a long time. It had been a particularly severe blow to learn that Edward had been killed, made even more painful by the fact that the feds and Interpol had frozen McGarrett out of the search for the killer. The fact that the pictures of Ki and Davis, together with the phone call from Katherine Prescott, had allowed McGarrett to collar the traitor partially responsible for Durant's death helped ease the pain a little.

_Katherine..._ McGarrett's eyes snapped open. He had spotted her watching from a distance, but now as he looked up and down the concourse, he didn't see her anywhere. _Have to track her down later. I want to know how she got involved in this mess. And I bet she can tell me where those pictures came from._

*******

Magnum checked his backpack one last time, ensuring he had included everything he would need. Suddenly, he drew his pistol and dove behind the couch before it had really registered that what he'd heard was the front door to the guest house clicking open. "TM?" a voice called.

Heart pounding, Thomas stood and returned the .45 to its spot in the small of his back. "TC, are you _nuts_, barging in here like that??!!" he shouted. "You almost got yourself shot! What are you doing here? You're supposed to be with Lily!"

"Going someplace, TM?" TC asked quietly, ignoring the other man's outburst.

Magnum zipped his pack and slung it up on his shoulder. "Got some business to take care of, TC."

TC walked down the stairs and planted himself in front of his friend. "Business... You mean like ... unfinished business?" After a long, silent pause, TC continued. "You know where he is, don't you?"

"Yes." Magnum stared hard at his friend, practically daring TC to attempt to stop him. 

"Thomas..."

Magnum cut him off viciously. "Don't!" he shouted. "If you don't want to help me, _fine!_ Just don't get in my way! We did it your way last time, and he walked! This time I'm doing it _my way!!_"

TC winced. Both he and Thomas knew TC had done the right thing a year ago when he stopped Magnum as he was about to kill Ki, during their second confrontation in the warehouse. Even so, the fact that Ki had remained alive meant that Michelle had been murdered, something TC found hard to live with. 

"I know," said TC.

"TC," Magnum shouted, "I said I'm..." he stopped in mid-tirade and stared at TC, breathing hard. "What did you say?" he finally asked softly.

TC put a hand on Magnum's shoulder and stared back. "I said, 'I know.' He's not gonna walk this time. I'm here to help," TC responded intently. "Where are we going?"

Thomas stared at his friend for a moment, trying to read his expression and make sure he was serious. "Molokai. There's a rental property on Molokai called 'The Doll House.' Not hard to make the connection."

Both men jumped when the phone rang unexpectedly. Magnum stared at it warily, and finally picked it up on the third ring. "Hello?"

"Tom?"

"Mom?!" Magnum glanced at his watch. _Barely __six AM__ in __Virginia__,_ he thought. "What are you doing calling at this hour? Is everything okay??"

"I was going to ask you the same question." Katherine Peterson sounded upset. "I just woke up from the most _awful_ nightmare..."

Magnum fought to keep stress out of his voice. "Everything's fine here, Mom!" he answered brightly. His mother had been hovering ever since Ki had tried to kill him last year. She had begged him to move back to Virginia, but he had known that was impossible. Thomas was pretty sure his tone of voice hadn't fooled her. He was right.

"Thomas Sullivan Magnum!!" Thomas winced and yanked the receiver away from his ear as his mother continued to shout. "Now you listen to me! I know perfectly well some thing is wrong, so don't you dare try to tell me otherwise!" 

Magnum could imagine how her face looked right now, all twisted with concern. He knew that her "little voice" was far more formidable than his own. And his full name meant she hadn't been fooled for a second. "Mom," he began.

"Tom," she cut him off quietly, "whatever it is, I'm sure it's important. Just be careful, and remember that I love you."

Magnum grimaced. She knew him well. "I will Mom. I love you too. Bye." He set down the receiver gently.

"Everything okay?" asked TC

"Yeah, fine," responded Magnum

"Chopper's ready. Let's go." 

Magnum squinted and looked intently at TC once more. "You sure? You don't have to do this. I've got a boat lined up."

TC nodded. His eyes narrowed to a murderous stare. "I'm sure. I owe you, man. And that boy needs killin'."

Magnum nodded. "Okay, let's go."

*******

"Are you ready to discuss the girl?" 

It was still over an hour until sunrise, but the long, horrifying night had taken its toll, just as Ki had intended. There was no response from a nearly-catatonic Greene. Ki directed that he be cut loose with the exception of his arms; his elbows remained cinched together in the excruciating, unnatural position that continued to exert agonizing pressure on his dislocated shoulders. The men jerked their captive to an upright sitting position, grinning sadistically at his gasps and groans as his cramped and torn muscles shrieked in protest. Chuckling, they released their hold and watched as the colonel, having virtually no control over his ravaged body, toppled helplessly to his side.

Ki squatted beside a thoroughly cowed Buck Greene. "Where?" Ki demanded.

Greene's body was shaking and twitching uncontrollably, his breath coming in uneven gasps. "Anything..." he croaked, his throat raw, his tortured voice reduced to almost nothing by hours of screaming. "Please..." he pleaded. "No more... Tell you ... anything... But ... don't know... where..."

Ki grabbed Greene's jaw and turned his face upright. Buck's unfocused, vacant eyes told the tale; Ki could see that he was completely broken. Once, a very long time ago, it would have bothered him to see such a strong man reduced to a quivering, pathetic wreck. No longer; torture was simply a means to an end. Was it possible that Greene really didn't know where the girl was? _Let's just make sure he's ready to talk._

"What is your nephew's name?" 

Buck hesitated, but only for a second. "Todd..."

The effort to speak set off another fit of uncontrollable coughing. Ki reached up and grabbed a full glass of water from the table. He motioned to the men, one of whom pulled Buck's head back and held his mouth open while Ki dumped the entire contents of the glass down Greene's throat. Buck managed to swallow some of the liquid, but sputtered and choked as more of it made its way toward his lungs. Ki paced impatiently as Buck lay gagging and gasping for air.

Once the coughing had subsided and Buck had caught his breath, Ki continued. "Easier to talk now?" he asked with a smirk. "Good. Tell me your niece's name."

"Marissa," came the tortured whisper.

"_Very_ good," purred Ki with a victorious smile. "Now, where is the C4 hidden?"

"Bunker..." _Doesn't matter any more... Whatever he wants to know..._

"Where? Directions," snapped Ki.

Buck haltingly recounted the route to the hiding place where he had confronted the Marines; an encounter that now seemed impossibly long ago.

"Thank you, Colonel. That little cache will make me a lot of money. Pity you won't be sharing any of it." Ki grabbed a handful of Buck's hair and twisted his head up and around so he could again look into his eyes. "Now, one more time, _where_ is Magnum's daughter?? Tell me now, or I'll tie you back up and leave you to die." 

"Don't _know..._" Greene gasped. His face was etched with raw terror. Fear gnawed at his insides. His guts twisted with the knowledge that he was unable to produce the information his tormentor wanted. His heart faltered at the memory of the unbelievable agony Ki was able to inflict. His throat closed tight with fear at the realization that he could endure no more...

"And if you knew, would you tell me?" Ki asked softly.

Buck's eyes reflected the torment in his shattered soul. He was devastated by the knowledge that somewhere deep inside, in a place no one ever talks about in polite company, he meant what he was about to say. "Yes..." he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut tight in shame and humiliation. _ God, forgive me..._

"I suppose it's possible you really don't know," admitted Ki reluctantly, dropping Buck's head back to the floor and rising to his feet. "No matter. Magnum will be along; I'll find out from him." Ki smiled malevolently as he pictured Magnum trying to conceal information about his daughter. 

"Get him back up in the chair. Magnum will be here soon. He knows I'm here, or he wouldn't have hidden the girl. The fool should have killed me at the warehouse last year, when he had the chance. I had _every_ intention of killing _him_. He'll find us. I left a trail that an imbecile could follow."

The men sliced the ropes away from Greene's arms, releasing them from their unnatural position and allowing blood flow to return. Buck groaned deeply as the two pulled him up into the chair, his back, legs, and hip flexors spasming and cramping cruelly. He screamed hoarsely as they expertly popped his shoulders back into their sockets. They'd obviously done this before. 

Greene was only semi-conscious by the time they had him sitting upright, his arms and legs once again tied to the chair. Slowly, feeling began to come back into Buck's arms, bringing with it its own exquisite form of torment. Only total exhaustion kept agonized cries from spilling out; pitiful moans were all the Buck had left. It was only a matter of minutes before Greene's body finally succumbed to the abuse he had endured, and his head sagged forward as he lost consciousness.

*******

"I can't get anywhere near that place without them seeing and hearing us, TM. The only spot near the house that I could land is right on the lawn," said TC as they sped toward Molokai just above the dark ocean.

"I figured as much, TC. How close can you get?"

"Looks like about three miles. Here." He glanced down and pointed to a spot on the map Magnum had spread across his lap, illuminated by a red flashlight.

"Not too bad. I'll be able to get to the house just before dawn. You stay with the chopper and listen to the radio. I'll yell when it's time to leave."

"I don't like it, TM. You're gonna need help in there."

Magnum pursed his lips and shook his head. "No. More important to be able to get out fast. And that means you staying with the chopper." Thomas double checked his .45, wishing there had been more time to get hold of something more powerful. It would have to do. _Besides,_ he thought darkly, _I'll have to use something a lot quieter than a forty-five to get rid of Ki's goons._ His hand moved to check the large buck knife strapped to his belt. The two men sat in silence for the remainder of the trip.

Magnum removed his headphones and reached behind the seat to retrieve his backpack as the skids of the chopper touched the ground. TC grabbed Magnum's arm as he opened the door; Thomas looked back at his friend. "Be careful!" TC shouted over the engine noise. The look in Thomas' eyes was one that TC had seen very few times. It was that scary, focused expression the members of the team had worn all those years ago when TC dropped them behind enemy lines on a mission. It was a look utterly devoid of human emotion. Magnum nodded once and stepped out into the darkness.

Reaching the perimeter of the small estate where Ki was staying was easy. The next hundred yards would be the hard part. Magnum counted three guards between himself and the house. _Those are just the ones I can see,_ he reminded himself as he quietly relayed the information to TC. Ten minutes later, he had snapped one guard's neck and used his knife to good purpose between a second one's ribs. Neither had heard a thing as Magnum crept through the darkness to end their lives. Thomas glanced up. He knew he had to hurry; the eastern horizon was beginning to brighten, and he would soon lose the night. 

From his vantage point behind a thick hedge, Magnum looked toward the house with binoculars and was surprised to see that Ki was either becoming careless or reckless; the blinds weren't drawn on the windows. _If I had a rifle..._ He could see Ki clearly in the well lit room inside, pacing back and forth in front of what appeared to be someone sitting in a chair. No, someone tied to a chair. Ki lifted the man's head and slapped him in the face. _Buck!_ This was a complication Magnum hadn't expected, but it wouldn't change his plans. He realized he was glad he didn't have a rifle. _I want Ki to know who killed him._ He focused his attention on the third guard.

*******

Ki's slaps to the Greene's face were ineffective; the man never flinched. Ki extended his hand toward one of his men and was handed a small ampoule. Buck started awake with a groan when Ki snapped the ammonia popper under his nose. 

"Welcome back, Colonel," said Ki. "I'm expecting company. Didn't want you to miss Magnum's arrival."

_Magnum... Ki did leave a trail... This bastard is gonna kill both of us..._

"It won't be quite the party I had planned. Your Mr. McGarrett has discovered that Commander Davis was working for me, and has taken her into custody. Unfortunate. I will not have the time I would require to extract information from Magnum." A small indicator light on a wall panel blinked briefly. "And here he comes now," Ki continued with an evil smile as he walked behind Greene.

_Davis? Working for Ki??_ Buck would have to consider that astonishing piece of information later. He tensed to shout a warning to Magnum. "Don't," Ki whispered, "unless you want it to be your final words." Buck felt the muzzle of Ki's gun press against the back of his head.

Thomas knew that it had been just a little too easy to gain access to the house. There had been only the three guards, right out in the open. He'd also found the fourth guard, well hidden. He doubted Ki had expected to lose that one. The lights were all on in the room where he'd seen Ki and Buck. There was only one way in; through the front door. He hoped Ki wouldn't shoot him as soon as he got inside. 

Thomas took a deep breath, wiped the sweat off his right hand, wrapped it around the handgrip of his gun, and stepped around the corner, aiming straight at Ki's head. Ki stood directly behind Buck, still tied to the chair. A head shot was Magnum's only option; Buck was in the way.

"I knew you would find us, Magnum. You hid your bastard child well; I couldn't take my revenge ... not yet. But I did stumble across this one." He gestured toward Greene. "We've had quite an amusing time, have we not, Colonel?" The captive stared wordlessly from his battered face.

_God, the only thing between me and Ki is a man I despise. But if I fire, Buck's a dead man. Shit!_

"Drop the gun, or I'll kill him," ordered Ki.

"I don't really give a damn if you kill him. He's brought me nothing but misery," growled Magnum, eyes flashing.

"Yes," Ki continued in a gruesomely silky voice, "I can see why you might want to kill him _yourself_, Magnum, after what he did to your wife ... your friends ... especially Lieutenant Commander Poole." Magnum looked sharply at Ki. There was something about the way he'd said Maggie's name... "Don't tell me you don't know," the Asian continued with a malevolent smile. He glanced at Greene, then looked back at Magnum. 

"You _don't_ know," Ki chortled, seeing confusion growing in the taller man's eyes. "Tell him, Colonel." Greene's face paled. His jaw muscles stood out in stark relief and his strained eyes seemed to sink deep into their sockets, but he remained silent.

Ki jammed his gun harder against the base of Greene's skull. "Tell him," he repeated, leaning over and whispering ominously into the colonel's ear, "or I'll blow your head off, and _I'll_ tell him. Then once Magnum is dead, and my business here is finished, I'll pay a little visit to Coronado, and kill your niece, and your nephew." Ki grinned lecherously. "Your sister is beautiful. I will have tremendous fun with her. Then I will kill her... Slowly..." 

Anything he could do to twist the knife, to increase the suffering of these two men who had taken so much from him, would warm Ki's black heart. "You decide, Colonel, but make your decision quickly."

Magnum glanced quickly at Greene. "Buck?" He watched the other man's countenance again undergo the bizarre transformation to that of a broken man. His features drooped, his shoulders sagged, anguish spread across his face. It was clear that Buck had been tortured, but Magnum didn't think torture was the cause of the transformation. The look on Buck's face was exactly the same look Magnum had seen just two mornings ago in Maggie's hospital room. No, there was something else... Without quite knowing why, Thomas tried to spare him a modicum of agony. Greene was a loathsome bastard but, like it or not, his ally in the struggle against Ki and his kind. 

"You were the inside man... You were the one who beat Maggie," Magnum declared, staring hard at the colonel. Greene nodded slowly and reluctantly. "And you were _there_ when they raped her ... you didn't stop it!" Greene's face twisted further and he drew in a shuddering breath.

Magnum didn't need his little voice to know there was more. "What else, Buck?" he demanded, his voice hard, his chiseled features set like granite.

"It's worse ... worse than you think," rasped the colonel, his throat still burning. He knew Ki would kill him; saving his own life was no longer part of the equation. He was torn between baring his soul in hopes of attaining some measure of absolution and sparing the man before him any further anguish. _But if Magnum makes it out of here, he'll eventually find out, anyway. I should at least have the balls to tell him myself._ Greene heard the mechanism on the weapon begin to work as Ki's finger slowly squeezed the trigger. _If I can stay alive, maybe, somehow, we can take him out. Angie... Can't let him get to Angie._

Greene continued in a deathly quiet, strangled voice, his haunted eyes boring into Magnum, "Tom... It was me... **_I_** raped her..." 

Time seemed to stand still. Somewhere far in the distance, Magnum could hear Ki's maniacal laughter, but in his worst nightmare, but could not have conceived of such a turn of events. His nerveless hand dropped slowly to his side, weapon forgotten, everything forgotten, save the unspeakable information just presented to him. He took an involuntary step backwards, mouth hanging open in absolute shock, lungs desperately gasping for air, sweat pouring down his ashen face. He tried to speak, but failed, his mouth opening and closing spasmodically, his lips moving soundlessly. He finally managed a choked whisper. "What did you say?"

Ki had ceased to exist, as far as the other two men were concerned. Their eyes locked; one pair a turbulent green, the other a tortured blue. "You heard me," came Greene's agonized reply. He dropped his gaze to the floor and continued in a tormented voice. "_Someone_ was going to rape her, Tom. _I couldn't stop that_... I wasn't going to give her some disease, or kill her in the process. She's injured and she's traumatized, but she's _alive!_" 

Buck squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his chin down tight against his chest. "The stateroom was bugged," he continued, gasping for air. "The whole yacht was wired ... cameras, mics… I set it up myself to record the weapons deals. I checked when I went below... They found it ... it was on. They were watching, listening... There was no way out." He lifted his head to stare at Magnum through tortured eyes. "Do you have any idea what they would have _done_ to her?" he pleaded, voice cracking. "I had no choice..." 

"There's _always_ a choice, Buck," Magnum heard someone rasp, too stunned to realize it was his own ragged voice.

_Alive?_ thought a puzzled Ki. _How could the girl be alive?_ Vanh had reported seeing her shot and tossed overboard. Well, no matter, he had heard enough; it was time to finish these two off. Thinking with great relish how enjoyable it would be to watch them die, he raised his weapon, aiming first at the man holding the .45 insensibly by his side. _Almost too easy,_ he sneered.

Magnum recovered from his shock just in time to recognize the peril, but a fraction of a second too late to do anything about it. As he started to raise his gun, he felt his feet leave the floor, pain exploding through him as all-too-familiar sledgehammer blows slammed into his chest, tossing him backwards through the air like a broken doll. _"Ughh."_ A geyser of red fluid shot into the air above him as he thudded senselessly to the floor. _Hurts... Can't breathe... Can't move..._ _Shit..._ He heard his gun skitter uselessly away as his eyes slowly fell closed and his head lolled to one side.

_"Magnum!"_ shouted Buck, straining forward, the ropes around his arms biting deeper into his flesh. But there was no response, not even a groan from where Magnum lay sprawled on his back, large wet splotches already spreading hideously across his chest as a thin stream of crimson trickled from the corner of his mouth and made its way across his cheek. Ki had an immensely satisfying sense of déjà vu; the scene was just like the one in the warehouse, over a year ago. But this time there would be no miracle; this time Magnum would die.

Buck grunted in pain as Ki jammed the gun into his stomach. "Now, as for _you_," he spat in Greene's face. "I should put you in the ropes and leave you here to die slowly." He shifted the gun so the muzzle sat squarely against Buck's chest. "But I want the satisfaction of _watching_ you, both of you," he glanced at Magnum's motionless body with a malevolent smile, "gasp your last, rattling, _dying_ breath." Ki leaned forward to hiss in Greene's face. "You've cost me more than anyone should have to pay, and now I will _take_ my revenge." 

Buck struggled against his bonds, knowing it was a useless effort but unable to simply sit still and quietly accept death at his old enemy's hand. "Ki, you son of a bitch..." he snarled. The Asian stood back, his arm straight out in front of him, his weapon still pressed against Buck's chest. A huge grin of pure evil lit his face. 

"Goodbye, Colonel. Say hello to General Hue and Michelle for me." 

Just as Ki pulled the trigger, a huge shape crashed into him, slamming him to the floor and knocking the gun from his hand. A bewildered Ki scrambled quickly to his feet, wondering who else was here. Magnum had been _allowed_ to find his way in, but no one else should have made it past the guards. Ki was astounded to see Magnum lying on the floor beside him, groaning. _How?!_ Ki searched quickly for his gun, but was unable to locate it. Magnum was up on his hands and knees, also hunting in vain for one of the weapons lying somewhere nearby. 

_No matter,_ thought the Asian. _I don't need a gun._ He aimed a vicious kick at his much larger opponent's head. Magnum crashed back to the floor, flashbulbs exploding through his brain.

"End of the road, _Magnum_." Ki started toward him. _One more kick should finish him off..._

"Not yet, you bastard," rasped Magnum. He lay crumpled against the wall, his head spinning, his vision cloudy, doubling and tripling. His arm was wobbling, as was the gun he now pointed shakily in Ki's direction. The stocky Asian moved like lightning, diving for cover behind a couch as Magnum fired. Ki's strangled cry told Thomas his shot had found its mark. Magnum kept firing as Ki scrambled for the door, but his vision was too foggy, his hands too unsteady. The gun's slide locked back, the magazine empty; Ki had escaped.

Thomas shook his head groggily in another attempt to clear it and dragged himself to his feet. He staggered to where Buck lay bleeding on the floor, still tied to the chair. "Get him!!" cried Greene hoarsely. "I'll be okay." When a quick check assured Thomas he had deflected Ki's gun enough that Greene's wound wasn't immediately life-threatening, he ran out after Ki. 

Magnum reached the expansive lawn just as Ki, his leg bleeding profusely, climbed awkwardly into a helicopter whose blades were already spinning, ready for takeoff. The sun was now up -- each of the men could see the other clearly. Magnum dove for cover behind a low rock wall as rifle shots rang out from the aircraft. He looked down at the gun in his hand and released the slide forward onto an empty chamber.

Ki looked grimly across at his enemy. He wasn't sure how Magnum had escaped death yet again, but there would be another time, another day. He would be patient. Magnum would always have to look over his shoulder, and one day Ki would be there again, exacting his revenge. The Asian paused. _What's the fool doing? He's going to give me another chance?! _

As the chopper slowly left the ground, Magnum stepped into full view and aimed his pistol the helicopter, almost daring Ki to shoot him. The Asian quickly took aim, but the motion of the helicopter made it difficult to keep the scope's crosshairs positioned squarely over the middle of his reckless enemy's head. He took one shot and missed; Magnum never flinched. Through the scope, Ki saw Magnum's face harden to stone, his eyes flashing fire from deep within their sockets. Few men had seen that look, and Ki suddenly realized that he had miscalculated something, and miscalculated badly. 

Magnum's left hand jabbed high in the air in the direction of the chopper, his fingers curled around a small object. As Ki's eyes widened in horror and he began screaming unintelligibly at the pilot, Thomas Magnum knew he had achieved his objective. Ki _knew_... 

"For Michelle, you bastard!!" Magnum shouted hoarsely into the wind. He coolly applied the necessary pressure to the single button on the small black box, and Quang Ki disappeared into the fireball that had once been a helicopter...

Magnum was thrown backwards to the ground by the force of the blast. Uninjured, he quickly climbed to his feet and ran to the house as burning debris rained down upon the beach. He had just finished cutting Buck loose from the chair when TC rushed through the door. 

"You okay, TM? I saw the explosion and figured it was time for a pickup..." TC stopped short. "_What_ is _he_ doing here??" he exclaimed.

"I'm fine. It's a long story. See if you can get this bleeding stopped." Magnum turned Buck over to TC and moved around the room, wiping down furniture, door frames, and anything else the three men might have touched. He found the second gun and tucked it in his waistband. 

"How is he?" Magnum asked.

"Not too bad. Slug went right through his shoulder. He's lost some blood and his arms are pretty beat up. Maybe some busted ribs, but I think he'll be okay."

"Let's get out of here. I don't think any of us wants to be around when Five-0 shows up." Buck groaned as Thomas helped TC lift him to his feet. "Take it easy on his arms."

The two lifted a semi-conscious Greene into the back of chopper, where Magnum took a seat beside him and kept pressure on his bleeding shoulder. TC lifted off and quickly swung the chopper east, around the far end of Molokai, and then north, to put distance and cliffs between them and any aircraft inbound from Oahu. Not unexpectedly, they saw the first Coast Guard and HPD helicopters approaching Molokai as they sped back toward Oahu just above sea level. 

"Think they saw us?" Magnum asked through the mic attached to his headset.

"No, don't think so. Don't hear anything on the radio, either. We're below radar and they had the sun in their eyes. What are we gonna do with Buck? Can't exactly land on the roof of Castle Memorial and drop him off..."

"I have a feeling Dr. Connolly will patch him up. We just have to get him to Tripler. Set it down on your pad and we'll make some phone calls."

Buck was trying to say something; Magnum placed a headset over his ears.

"You missed him on purpose. You let him get to the chopper..." rasped Buck.

Magnum's voice was flat, expressionless. "Did I, Buck? He kicked me in the head. I was dazed. Damned shame that chopper exploded. Wonder what happened to it? I really wanted to see him brought to trial, to let him rot in jail." 

"Easy, TM." TC could hear the ominous tone in Magnum's voice.

"Where's the detonator, Magnum?" Buck winced as he tried to adjust his position.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Buck. I got knocked around pretty good by that explosion; I don't really remember much about what happened," Magnum commented evenly. 

Thomas unbuttoned his ruined shirt and slowly removed both it and the bulletproof vest that had saved his life. The empty packets of red stage blood hanging loosely from the vest explained the all too realistic looking "bloodstains" on the shirt. Magnum rubbed gingerly at the deep bruises on his chest that, without the body armor, would have been large, fatal wounds. Despite the protection, he'd had the wind knocked out of him when the bullets hit the vest, and still felt as though someone had worked him over with a baseball bat. 

Buck couldn't help but notice the scars remaining from Ki's previous, and very nearly successful, attempt on Magnum's life. A vision of Ki's laughing face looming above Buck as he writhed in pain flashed through the injured man's mind. _Maybe that damned detonator just isn't all that important..._ He knew he would have to answer questions put to him by McGarrett. He also knew that his memory was about to become very selective.

Magnum placed the ruined shirt, the guns, and the bulletproof vest in his backpack, then added two bricks for additional weight. He stared hard at Greene for a moment, pulled a small black box from his pocket, and held it up to allow the colonel to get a good look. Buck recognized the box for what it was, returned Magnum's stare through slitted eyes, and nodded solemnly. Thomas added the detonator to the pack, slashed a few air holes in the side, and tossed it into the ocean. Buck closed his eyes and sagged wearily back against the seat.

*******

As soon as TC set down on his helipad, Thomas made a couple of discrete phone calls to Tripler, finally reaching Brian Connolly. The doctor directed Magnum to deliver Buck to a quiet, out-of-the-way entrance at the hospital.

Connolly stood waiting with a wheelchair when the men arrived in TC's van.

"I can't stay," Magnum said to Connolly as they lifted Greene from the car.

"Go. We'll take care of him," replied the doctor, wincing as he took stock of Buck's injuries.

"I'll be back in a few hours," Magnum assured Connolly.

*******

Magnum and TC sped away to a small house tucked high in the mountains. It was still early when they pulled into the long driveway and nodded to Rick, who spoke into a small two-way radio. The front door of the small house popped open as Magnum walked up the steps, and a small form hurtled toward him.

"Papa!!!!" screamed Lily delightedly. Thomas' eyes glistened as he kneeled to gather the little girl into his arms. He clamped his eyes shut and hugged her silently for several long moments. 

"Papa? Are you okay?" Lily asked when he finally released her.

"I'm fine, darlin'. Just fine." He smiled and kissed her on her forehead as he quickly swiped the back of his hand over his eyes. 

"Thomas?" Carol asked, her eyes full of questions.

Magnum stood and pulled Carol into a hug. "He's dead," he whispered in her ear. "Lily's safe now. It's time to go home."

*******

The remainder of Thursday was a blur to Magnum. After returning to the estate with Lily, he had spoken to Connolly on the phone. The doctor had assured him that Maggie was fine, and that her medications had been reduced to those medically necessary for pain management, but that she was likely to sleep through most of the day. 

Connolly also said that Buck Greene had been quietly admitted to Tripler and would undergo surgery later in the day to pin his badly broken and dislocated finger. Despite the colonel's vigorous protests, the doctor intended to keep Buck in the hospital over night. 

Connolly knew Magnum couldn't have had much, if any, sleep in the last few days, so he told Thomas in no uncertain terms to get some rest, or he would find himself admitted to the hospital, as well. Alicia had made the same demand; that Thomas get some rest. Outnumbered, he slept through the remainder of Thursday morning and most of the afternoon. 

Early Thursday evening, Magnum stepped into Maggie's room and stood quietly watching her. The bruises on her face had faded to a patchwork of purple, green and yellow, and the swelling had receded. A thin line of angry-looking stitching was visible above her right eye. The faint remains of bruises on her neck made him shudder. Thomas settled in to a chair for what he knew might be a long wait. 

Connolly arrived during the evening to check on his patient. He reassured Magnum that Maggie would be fine, but that she wouldn't be fully alert until the medications had cleared her system, and that would take some time. Connolly had suggested that Magnum go home, but Thomas knew he wouldn't be able to relax until Maggie was awake and he could see for himself that she would be okay.

*******

"I knew you'd still be here." 

Magnum started awake at the amused voice. He winced and rubbed his neck, stiff from sleeping sitting up in a chair, and looked up at Connolly with a wry smile

Connolly had assumed he would find Magnum at Poole's bedside. _He looks like hell,_ thought the doctor. Magnum's eyes were bloodshot, he needed a shave, and it was clear that he was still badly sleep-deprived. "She hasn't woken up at all, has she?" Magnum shook his head. "I told you you should have gone home. Y'all are a stubborn bunch," the doctor continued, shaking his head. "I don't suppose there's any point in trying to convince you to leave, but I have to examine my patient, so get out of here for a few minutes and find some coffee. You look like you could use it."

Magnum smiled again, but his expression sobered as he looked at Maggie. "Why isn't she awake yet?"

"She's _fine_, Magnum. I have her on pain meds. She needs sleep to heal. The meds let her sleep. She'll be alert by this afternoon. Stop worrying!"

Magnum nodded. "This afternoon. I'm going to hold you to that."

"Deal. Now, beat it," the doctor ordered good-naturedly.

*******

Magnum stayed away only a short time before returning to Maggie's room and trying to settle his large frame comfortably in the small chair beside her bed. Maggie opened her eyes briefly several times through the morning, but she was still badly disoriented.

"Where am I?" she whispered on one occasion.

"You're at Tripler, and you're safe." He wasn't even sure she knew who he was.

"How long?"

"Five days."

Thomas' answer had elicited only a confused look from Maggie before she dropped back to sleep.

Thomas dozed on and off throughout the afternoon, but he also had plenty of time to think. The depth of his emotional reaction upon finding Maggie alive had really surprised him. From the first time that she had awkwardly suggested they have a drink together (though the invitation had been delivered at Buck's direction), Thomas had purposely avoided letting his thoughts drift any further than friendship. Until now. He wasn't blind. He knew she had feelings for him, but had conveniently ignored the fact. It wasn't that he didn't like her. He did. But anything more was far too complicated. 

_I'm too much older than she is, and I have way too much baggage ... baggage that Maggie knows all about, and understands far too well. She deserves much better. Someone younger... Someone who doesn't still wake up screaming from nightmares every so often..._ He swallowed hard._ Besides, she's still in the Navy, and that adds complications I'm not sure I want to deal with._

Thomas had never allowed himself to get too involved with military women. They were friends, buddies, coworkers. Someone to hang around with, go sightseeing with. Someone to sleep with when bombs were falling and you were both afraid you might not see tomorrow... But get serious about one of them? No, no -- that caused _far _too many difficulties. 

Thomas and Maggie had remained close these last few years, even when Maggie transferred to Virginia and then back to Hawaii. _We're friends,_ he reminded himself, _nothing more._ But something echoed through his head as he nodded off once more. _ ...it can take a good slap in the face to open your eyes to what's really valuable in life..._

Thomas snapped awake from an unintended late afternoon nap to see Maggie watching him. She still looked exhausted. Her corners of her mouth rose into the small, tight smile that belied the haunted look in her eyes. 

"Thomas..." she said softly.

"Hi," he responded very quietly, not quite sure what else to say, his own eyes revealing a storm of emotions. "How do you feel?" he continued lamely.

"Tired," she whispered, not meeting his eyes. 

An uncomfortable silence hung between the two while Thomas stared at his hands and Maggie stared out the window. Finally, after several long moments, Thomas broached the painful subject both were studiously avoiding. "Maggie," he began gently, his gaze returning to her face, "I know what happened."

Maggie's eyes searched his. She pressed her lips together hard, her chin quivering momentarily. "How?" she whispered.

"Buck told me," came the quiet response.

Maggie's face filled with fear and confusion. _If I can't trust Thomas, I can't trust anyone!_

"But Quang Ki was holding a gun to his head at the time," Thomas continued quickly.

"Ki? Is Buck…?"

"No, he's okay. A little worse for the wear, but alive."

"Thomas, please tell me what's going on," Maggie pleaded.

"I think I can help with that, Commander." 

Magnum came slowly to his feet as he recognized the two men standing in the doorway. Maggie shot a fearful, questioning glance toward Thomas, the one person she thought she could trust. He returned the look with a quick, reassuring nod, and reached out to squeeze her hand. 

Maggie turned her attention back to Admiral Hawkes, who had now closed the door and crossed the room to stand at her bedside. 

Colonel Greene remained just inside the door, staring at the floor and quite obviously wishing he were someplace else. Thomas could see that Buck was in pain. His left arm was in a sling, a large dressing covering his shoulder. His left hand and broken finger were splinted and heavily bandaged, and his right hand was tucked in his pocket to take the weight off of his damaged shoulder. _Stubborn bastard,_ thought Thomas. _That right arm belongs in a sling, too. And I bet he refused to take pain meds, just like he used to in 'Nam._

"First, let me assure you," continued the admiral, "that despite all evidence to the contrary, Colonel Greene and I are on the right side of the law. There was a very dangerous black market weapons deal about to take place. We had to move much faster than we would have liked. Colonel Greene spent the last several months building the story of an officer gone bad. In addition, we knew we had a leak, but we couldn't find it." Hawkes frowned. "I'm afraid we never suspected someone so senior," he added ruefully. 

"A leak?" asked Maggie, confused.

The admiral shook his head. "I'm sorry, Commander, you have no idea what I'm talking about. Commander Davis was arrested the day before yesterday on suspicion of espionage."

"_Tanya_ Davis??" Maggie was astonished. She knew Davis was a bitter, hateful woman, but _espionage??_

"Yes, Tanya Davis. To make matters worse, at the time we decided to move ahead with the weapons operation, we hadn't yet discovered who was passing information, and we couldn't wait any longer to try to plug the leak. 

Two weeks ago, we got wind of a major arms shipment, but with very few details. We knew they were Asian, probably the group we were already targeting. We knew the ringleader was someone named The Cat, but that was it. We had no idea Quang Ki was involved. The colonel's irrational behavior was for your benefit. We knew you'd express concern, and I could, ah, 'reassign' you for a while." 

The admiral paused for a moment and studied at the beautiful tropical panorama stretching before him on the other side of the window. Such beauty, in contrast to the ugliness he was about to reveal. "I sent you in there, Commander, because we needed a 'victim' for Colonel Greene," he continued, his face hard and expressionless. "To get access to The Cat, we needed to convince him that the colonel had indeed gone bad. The plan was to expose you, rough you up a little, 'kill' you, and toss you overboard." The admiral's face fell as he took a deep, shaky breath, ran his hand over his mouth and chin and swallowed hard. "I don't know how it went so wrong..." After a moment, he pursed his lips, pulled himself together, and continued. "I can only tell you that Colonel Greene did what he felt he had to in order to keep you both alive..."

Maggie stared at the admiral in shock, her mind a maelstrom of strong, widely disparate emotions vying for control. Raw, seething fury and a loathing bordering on outright hatred did battle with the notion that he might be right. Way down deep inside her, a tiny, rational voice spoke sternly, pointing out to her that whether she liked it or not, the admiral was probably correct; as vicious as Buck had been, the others would have done worse, and undoubtedly killed her. But, for now, anger had the upper hand. She exploded, her voice quaking with rage, "Why didn't you _tell_ me?!"

"Because we needed you to be shocked, stunned, even terrorized to a certain extent by what was happening to you. We needed them to believe … _you_ to believe ... that Buck Greene was a traitor." The admiral's strained expression and voice made it clear that he hadn't particularly liked his own plan.

The tiny, rational voice was gaining volume and momentum.

A quiet, strangled sound rose from near the door. "Maggie, I only expected to slap you around..."

Maggie's temper was at full bore. "What else did you _expect_, Colonel?" She pulled herself forward, up off the pillows, but groaned softly and sagged back as pain bit into her. "Did you _expect_ that after you 'slapped me around' I'd what? Beg for my life? _Cry_?" She stared at him with the same raw intensity he'd seen aboard the yacht.

"Yes," came the colonel's quiet admission. "That's exactly what I expected. I underestimated you, _badly_. I was wrong. I'm **_sorry_**..." His ragged voice trailed off as he stared at her for another second then turned away to look out the window.

The tiny, rational voice implored Maggie to say something, anything, to the visibly distraught man before her. She silenced the voice with a vicious mental swipe and turned her attention back to the admiral. 

"How is it that I'm still alive?" she demanded. "I was shot."

"I think this is where I come in." Dr. Connolly had entered the room unnoticed and stood just inside the door. He walked slowly to the end of the bed and set down the chart he had in his hand. "You weren't briefed on the details of this operation, were you, Commander Poole?"

"Details?" Maggie asked, shaking her head slowly as her confusion deepened. 

Having just confirmed that he, too, had been deceived, Connolly glared at Hawkes before continuing. "That wasn't a bullet the colonel fired at you. It was a pellet containing a pharmaceutical cocktail designed to simulate death."

"How?" Maggie demanded, staring icily at the doctor who had now exposed himself as another member of this little conspiracy.

"Well, if you want the technical details..."

"I do," she snapped, cutting him off in mid-sentence. She desperately needed some measure of control, even if it was as simply in knowing what had happened, and how.

The doctor nodded slowly. "All right. It contained a fast-acting neural paralytic agent, anectine, to stop your movement and breathing, a beta blocker to slow your heartbeat even further, below what a quick check would detect, a strong sedative to knock you out, and a blood thinner, coumadin, to cause a relatively small, local bleed in your lungs; very impressive when you started choking..." 

"So, they _thought_ I was dead."

"It was very convincing," intoned Colonel Greene with a shudder.

Admiral Hawkes picked up the story again. "We had SEALs shadowing the yacht. They retrieved you, leaving behind enough red dye in the water to give the impression that sharks got you. Then they transported you to their boat, administered antidotes and oxygen, and loaded you on a helicopter for the trip here."

"Sounds like a pretty elaborate scheme, playing someone's life so close to the edge like that, without their knowledge," drawled Magnum, his blazing eyes contrasting sharply with his deathly quiet tone of voice.

"She knew the risks," Hawkes snapped back.

"_Did she??_" Magnum shouted, the tendons in his neck popping taut.

"_Thomas_," hissed Maggie, silencing him with a look. She glanced at Hawkes, then back to Magnum. "I knew the risks," she affirmed. _No, maybe not specifically, but I knew my life could be in danger when I accepted the assignment. And I can fight my own battles, thank you!_ But the exchange _had_ answered the one question she had been aching to ask. Thomas hadn't been involved in the scheme; he hadn't known what they were up to. He hadn't betrayed her trust.

Magnum knew that look. All women had some version of that look. It meant shut up, and shut up _now_. He pursed his lips and stared hard at her_. The details, Maggie. They never told you the details, or how dangerous it could really have been, and it almost cost you your life. Never mind everything else that happened,_ he thought darkly.

Maggie finally broke the heavy silence hanging over the room. "When can I get out of here, Doc?"

"Give it some time, Commander. I'm going to keep you for a few days to make sure all the medications have cleared your system," he replied. _And to let you rest, once I get all the damned testosterone cleared out of this room._

She sighed and laid her head back on the pillow. In truth, she was still exhausted, both from the attack itself and from the effects of all the drugs that had been pumped into her. Besides, it was going to take some time to come to terms with the emotional impact of the story she'd just heard. Her eyes began to droop.

"My patient needs rest, gentlemen. I think you should go now," said Connolly. It was not a request.

Admiral Hawkes nodded. "Very well. I'll check in on you tomorrow." He paused, and stared hard at her. "Well done, Commander," he added.

Thomas squeezed her hand gently. "I'll see you later." She nodded, returning his forced smile one of her own.

Just as Colonel Greene reached the door, the tiny, rational voice finally won out. "Colonel?" It was a broken man who turned to look back at her. "Apology accepted," she declared quietly, looking him straight in the eye. There was no rancor in her voice, no malice or sarcasm, only quiet sincerity. She couldn't quite bring a smile to her face, but her lips came together in a straight line, acknowledging her acceptance of his explanation for his actions.

To astonishment of everyone in the room, Greene's chin quivered momentarily. He pressed his lips into a thin line, swallowed hard, and gave her a quick nod. A moment later, he managed to speak, his voice cracking. "You did a hell of a job out there, Maggie. It's been a long time since I've seen that kind of courage." He paused, his haunted blue eyes boring into her. "If I've been tough on you, over the last few years, it was because I knew you were a damned fine officer." He pulled himself up to stand ramrod straight and cleared his throat. "It's been a privilege serving with you, Commander." Eyes glistening, he turned on his heel and limped down the hall without a backwards glance.

_What the **hell** was **that**?_ thought Magnum, instinctively starting after him. 

"Leave him alone, he'll be alright," said the admiral quietly, grabbing Magnum's arm. "Get some rest," he said to Maggie.

"Yes sir," she replied quietly, finally tearing her eyes away from the now vacant doorway and locking them on Magnum's eyes, silently questioning. An almost imperceptible nod of his head told her yes, he would check on Buck.

*******

It was a thoughtful Thomas Magnum who drove across town toward Queen's Medical Center. It had been two days since the encounter in Maggie's hospital room, but Buck had still refused to open his front door. "I'm _fine_. Leave me alone!" he had shouted through the door. Thomas had done just that. Buck still didn't want help and Magnum wasn't going to push it.

Magnum's friends and the people he loved were still alive. His enemy was dead. He joined TC and Rick in Higgins' hospital room, where the feisty majordomo had regained consciousness and was grumbling enough that everyone was sure he was on the mend.

_"Agatha??"_ exclaimed Higgins, throwing his head back and howling with laughter for a moment before wincing in pain as Thomas entered the room.

"I'm _serious_," exclaimed Rick.

"Serious about what, Rick?" inquired Thomas with a smile.

"I'm _telling_ you, Agatha took down those guys who were following Carol!"

The three looked skeptically at him, chuckling under their breath. "What kinda funny stuff you been smokin', Rick?" snorted TC.

The door opened slowly, only to admit Agatha herself. "Good!" exclaimed Rick. "_You_ tell them, Agatha! They won't believe _me_!"

"Tell them what, Rick?" she asked, utterly bewildered.

"C'mon, Agatha, quit goofing around," Rick responded uncomfortably. "Tell them how you stopped those guys tailing Carol and held a gun on them."

"A _gun?_ _Me??_ Good heavens, Rick, are you quite sure you're not ill? Why, I wouldn't have the foggiest notion of what to do with such a thing! Jonathan? What _is_ he talking about?" She looked plaintively at Higgins, hoping for an explanation.

"Agatha, my dear, Rick has been quite adamant that it was you. I _tried_ to explain to him that proper British women do not run around the islands with automatic weapons, but he continues to insist on this _absurd_ story," Higgins chuckled.

"Agatha," puffed an exasperated Rick, "are you gonna tell me that you've never handled a gun??"

"Well," she answered uncomfortably, "not for over forty years, since the war. My Aunt CeCe and I were trapped in Paris when the Nazis invaded. You did what you had to, sometimes, to survive," she finished quietly, looking down and wringing her hands together.

"Agatha, are you quite alright?" asked Higgins softly.

"Yes, Jonathan. I'm fine." She made a wan attempt to smile. "It's just that I haven't thought about the war for a long time."

"I think we better go," said TC. 

Magnum nodded. "I think you're right, TC. Take care, Higgins, we'll see you later."

"But..." sputtered Rick.

TC wrapped an arm around Rick's shoulders and pulled him toward the door with a smile. "Come on, Rick, let's leave Higgy alone."

As the three departed, Magnum caught Agatha and Higgins sharing a long, knowing look, with Higgins smiling solemnly and nodding approvingly at her. Magnum knew then that Rick was telling the truth, but that none of them would ever speak of the matter again.

*******

Thomas helped Maggie out of the passenger seat of the Land Rover. Dr. Connolly had decided that Maggie needed more than just a couple of recuperation days, and despite her increasingly vigorous protests, he had refused to release her from the hospital for another week. She had insisted that she wanted to go home to her own apartment, but her car was at the estate, so Thomas had made Robin's Nest the first stop.

Maggie walked slowly across the lawn to the beach without saying a word. Thomas followed, but dropped back as she reached the beach. He knew she needed some space, some time to be alone, to think. He also knew there was no better place than the ocean to begin the healing process. The power of the sea could soothe and wash away all manner of pain and injury, both physical and emotional.

He watched as Maggie tensed. "Maggie...?" he called softly. "Y'okay?"

Maggie glanced over her shoulder at him and nodded briefly. Thomas joined her on the beach as she gazed pensively out toward Rabbit Island. "I love the ocean, Thomas. It helps to just stand and listen to it, smell it," she said with a sad half-smile.

"I know," he responded quietly, wishing he could do something to ease her pain.

"Why??" She whispered fiercely and turned toward him, her face a mask of hurt. "They _used_ me, Thomas. They _set me up!!_ _Why??_ Why didn't they at least _tell_ me? And then..." She stopped short, hugged her arms around herself and turned to look out over the water again.

"I don't know." Thomas gently grasped Maggie's shoulders from behind. He could feel her muscles all taut with anger and hurt. 

Maggie had sworn to herself that she wouldn't cry, that she wouldn't burden Thomas with her feelings, so she was surprised to feel the first hitching sob rise in her throat. This wasn't Thomas's problem; it was hers to deal with, and she had always dealt with her problems by herself, in her own way. 

Thomas turned her around and gathered her into a hug. "Shhhh," he soothed. "It'll be okay." Despite his faults, Thomas was an utterly faithful friend, and much as she hated to admit it, fierce as her independent streak was, it felt good to be safe in his arms. 

_Maybe I can't get through this one on my own..._

Thomas pulled her tightly to his chest and stroked her hair as the floodgates opened and Maggie sobbed angry tears. "Why??" she raged. "Why didn't they tell me??" 

Thomas shook his head. "I don't know, Maggie," he repeated. He held her while Maggie let go of the last two weeks worth of pent up emotion with the only person on the planet whom she felt she could. She and Thomas had known each other for a long time, and had never pulled any punches with one another. She knew she could trust him. He knew that if he had listened to her, all of this might not have happened, and he was finding that awfully difficult to live with.

After a few minutes, Maggie's sobs gave way to sniffles and she slowly pulled away from him. She drew in a deep breath, blew it out explosively. 

"I'm sorry, Thomas. None of this is your problem."

"Isn't it?" he asked gravely, as he fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. "If I had listened to you that day, and talked to Buck..." He stared into the distance.

"It wouldn't have helped," she finished. "Buck would have thrown you out, and the admiral would probably have sent you off the island. Buck would be dead. Lily would probably be dead." Maggie was nothing if not blunt, but she was right, and Thomas knew it. 

Maggie forced a smile. "I have to get going. It's getting late." She moved toward the driveway.

Thomas grabbed her arm gently. "Maggie, you really shouldn't be alone. Stay here tonight, with me ... and Lily." His serious face softened into a smile. "You girls can have a pajama party... I'll take the couch."

Maggie nodded with relief. "Thanks," she said softly. She really hadn't wanted to be alone, but had long ago reconciled the fact that she and Thomas were just friends. She didn't want Thomas to think she was attempting to change that, and asking to stay at the estate would have been too awkward.

When they reached the door to the guest house, Thomas stopped and gently gripped Maggie's shoulders. "Everything will be okay. Give it time." With that, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Before she could react, he threw open the door. 

"Lily, look who's here!" he exclaimed.

*******

Long after Lily and Maggie had fallen asleep, Thomas sat on the lanai smoking a cigar and staring up at the stars. _I wondered how I would feel and what I would do, _he thought, _if I ever got another chance at Ki. Justice has been served hasn't it? Ki's dead, just like Ivan, but it isn't enough. It'll never be enough. It won't bring back Michelle. It won't help Maggie or Buck. It'll never be enough, but it'll have to do. With Ki gone, at least now the world is a safer place for Lily._ He shook his head slowly, quietly rose to his feet and walked inside. 

*******

The harsh ringing of the telephone pulled Magnum from sleep, and fumbled blindly for the receiver. "Hello," he mumbled. A glance at his watch confirmed what he already knew; it was early, just 0530.

"Commander, this is Admiral Hawkes. Colonel Greene has disappeared. No one has seen him in three days."

"How could that possibly concern me, Admiral?" asked Thomas coldly, rubbing a hand over his face in an attempt to wake up. Maggie appeared in the living room, wondering who was calling so early.

"I was hoping you might have some idea where he went," continued a concerned Hawkes.

"I'm sorry, admiral, I don't keep tabs on Buck Greene." Despite his best effort, Thomas barely managed to keep his voice free of the contempt he felt for the admiral. "I can't help you, sir. Goodbye." 

"What was that all about?" asked Maggie, as Thomas hung up the phone. When he didn't respond, his back still turned to her, she wasn't sure it he had heard her. "Thomas, are you okay?"

Thomas glanced at his watch. "Shit," he muttered. "Maggie, stay here with Lily, please?" he asked, throwing on a shirt and slipping boat shoes on his feet.

"Of course… Where are you going??" she shouted after him as he ran up the stairs and out the door without another word.

"Where is Papa going?" asked a sleepy voice. 

Maggie forced a smile and turned to the little girl. "He just has an errand to run, honey. Are you hungry? Want an early breakfast?" Lily nodded as Maggie heard the Ferrari speed through the gate.

*******

As Thomas had suspected, Buck's Jeep was parked in the small lot at Pali Lookout. Magnum rushed silently up the short path to the overlook, where he found Buck standing with his back turned, leaning with his hands spread wide atop the waist high concrete wall, looking out over the valley below. A .45 caliber military issue semi-automatic pistol lay on the wall beside his right hand. 

Magnum continued his slow progress up the path as the glow in the east grew brighter. Sunrise was just moments away. The green vista spread out before the men was one of the most stunning on the island, with huge striated cliffs rising nearly straight up from the valley floor. The tops of the peaks were still shrouded in early morning mist, and the onshore wind howled as it collided with the slope and rushed upward toward the overlook. _Thank God for the wind,_ thought Magnum. _It should keep him from hearing me, as long as he doesn't turn around._

Buck seemed oblivious to the beauty. His posture was stiff, unnatural, his gaze fixed on the eastern horizon. He was leaning forward as though he were trying to keep the sun from rising, or time from its forward march. Magnum crept ahead. One deliberate step... another... a third. If he could just get close enough before Buck realized he was there... Thomas was surprised that Buck had not sensed his presence, but the other man seemed lost in a world of his own, completely oblivious to everything around him, save the progress of the sunrise. As the sun's leading edge rose up out of the sea, Greene's chin dropped to his chest, and his shoulders began to shake. _He's in worse shape than I thought,_ thought Thomas. 

Suddenly a crow cawed loudly behind Magnum. In one smooth motion, Buck grabbed the .45, whirled around, and took dead aim at Thomas, now only eight feet away. **_Damn it!_**_ Just a few more seconds..._

Greene looked horrendous. His chinos and polo shirt were dirty and rumpled, his bloodshot eyes were sunken deep in their sockets, his beard showed several days growth, his face was haggard. While he had always been thin and wiry, he now appeared positively gaunt, clearly having lost at least ten pounds since Thomas had last seen him only a week ago.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here, Magnum?" Greene demanded in a strained, gravelly voice.

"I could ask you the same question, Buck," came the careful response.

"Leave me alone. Get out of here," Buck shouted.

"I can't do that, Buck."

"Why not? You said yourself you didn't give a damn if Ki killed me." He paused, his face twisting in anguish. "You should have _let_ him kill me..." Another pause. "Can you honestly tell me you wouldn't like to kill me yourself, after what happened to Mac, and to Michelle, and for letting Ki go? And for what I did to Maggie?" 

When Thomas didn't answer, Buck continued. "You were right about one thing, Magnum. We used people. All the time. You know what today is?" Greene seemed to be looking right through Thomas. 

"Of course," Thomas answered quietly, his eyes taking on a pained, faraway look. "It's been six years." _Six years since Mac was murdered._ The heartbreaking anniversary weighed heavily upon him every year. He remembered every detail with a searing clarity he wished he didn't possess; the unexpectedly enjoyable evening at Luau Louie's, the walk toward the parking lot, Mac's offer to drive so Julie could sit in Magnum's lap. Mac went ahead to get the car... He could still see Mac's smiling face as he shouted happily, "Hey! Whaddya say we drive up to Pali Lookout and watch the sunrise?! It oughtta be beautiful!" Then Mac slid behind the wheel of the Ferrari and turned the key... _It should have been me..._

"That's right. He should have been here that morning, to see that sunrise. If I hadn't been so arrogant, pushed him so hard, or if I'd told you what was going on, maybe he'd still be alive."

"Maybe," countered the taller man quietly. "And maybe not. It happened a long time ago, Buck. Let it go." 

"And what about Michelle, and _Maggie?_"

"Davis sold out Michelle," Magnum pointed out. His voiced dropped as he continued, "And Maggie doesn't hold it against you."

Greene's sunken eyes burned with enraged fire. "She _should_, damn it!" he spit out raggedly, his faced twisting in agony. "How the _hell_ can you say she doesn't hold it against me? I _raped_ her, Tom. Brutally... Deliberately..." His stopped, voice catching in his throat, his breath coming in hitching gasps. 

Greene's red-rimmed eyes filled with tears. The gun in his hand began to shake as he continued haltingly. "I turned into some kind of an animal. I had to pretend I wasn't me, that she wasn't Maggie. It was like watching a movie. It was the only way I could..." His voice trailed off as he relived the brutal scene over and over in his mind's eye. 

"There _had_ to have been another way..." He paused again, trying in vain to control his emotions. 

"What have I become, Tom?" he pleaded. "I'm no different than Ki. He tortured me; I tortured her..." Buck gulped for air. "How many?" he continued brokenly. "How many have been hurt, had their lives destroyed, been killed, because of what _I've_ done?" He glanced quickly at the new day's sunrise, not giving Thomas enough time to make a grab for the gun. He brought his gaze back to Magnum's face and stared hard at him. "Mac, General Hue, Michelle, Prescott... You remember Prescott?" The haunted look on Greene's face deepened further. 

Thomas nodded slowly. "I remember. I'd been there a little over two months. I carried his body out." _Keep him talking. He'll let down his guard eventually. He can't hold that gun up there forever; his shoulders have to be killing him._

"You and I didn't meet until your third tour, but I was in country during your first tour. Prescott said I was wrong, that there was no NVA general in that village. But I was arrogant, and so sure I was right." Greene sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. "I was the one who sent your team into that ambush. Prescott's blood was the first blood on my hands." He paused again. "Then there was Mac... Michelle... And now Maggie..." His voice cracked. "I used to think I was one of the good guys..." 

_It was Buck who sent us in there?? I knew someone screwed up the intel, but I never knew who! _thought Magnum angrily. _Tex was like a big brother to me. But why tell me that now? Trying to clear his conscience?_ It took real effort to swallow his fury and speak quietly, "You did what you had to do to keep yourself and Maggie alive. Ki's dead now, Buck. And you brought Lily to me."

"The only good and decent thing I ever did in my life was get your daughter back to you," Greene remarked softly, a sob catching in his throat.

"I never even said thank you." Thomas slowly extended his hand. He knew that part of his effort was utterly selfish. If he had to add Buck Greene's name to that long list of people he had been unable to save, he knew he might go into a tailspin he couldn't pull himself out of. 

"Give me the gun, Buck. Let's not have anyone else get hurt." 

"I had a son once."

"What??" _Had?_ Magnum's blood ran cold.

Buck nodded numbly. "Matt. His mother divorced me when he was three, while I was in 'Nam. He was a Marine." His voice broke and tears welled in his eyes. "A lance corporal. He died in nineteen eighty-three."

"Eighty-three... Beirut?" Magnum asked softly. _Keep him talking._

Buck pressed his lips into a thin line as he nodded again. "He was only nineteen - still just a kid. His mother never forgave me for the fact that he followed me into the Corps."

_The barracks bombing,_ thought Thomas. _Oh, my God. I knew he went to the mainland for a couple of weeks for the funerals. I didn't know he went to bury his son._

"I'm sorry, Buck. Really, I am. C'mon, give me the gun. Let's go home."

Magnum could see that the other man had truly reached his limit. Although he was a first-rate intelligence officer, Colonel Buck Greene had a soft, hidden underbelly; he was, at heart, a warm, caring man, attributes he kept well hidden beneath his crusty Marine façade. Buck's own words about Mac echoed from the past into Magnum's ears, "...a decent guy. Maybe too decent..." 

_Maybe that's what Buck was trying to tell me six years ago. Mac wasn't the only guy too civilized for this business; Buck was talking about **himself**, too._

Ultimately, Buck _was_ too decent for the ugliest parts of his chosen profession. The individual he was deep inside could no longer co-exist with the oft-distasteful creature his line of work required him to be; the dichotomy had finally torn him apart. What he had been forced to do to save Maggie's life, and his own, had been the last straw; Buck Greene had come unglued.

Greene's face twisted into a tormented scowl as tears spilled unnoticed down his cheeks. "_No!! _No more!" he shouted hoarsely. "I won't dishonor ... the memories of good men... Good men like my son..." His voice broke. "No more..." 

As Thomas opened his mouth to try and reason with the distraught man, the colonel's right hand began to move. Magnum thought he might be ill. _Oh, my God... Diane, all over again._ Diane, the woman he had loved, who had committed suicide right in front of him; he unable reason with her, unable to reach her, unable to grab the gun in time... The next seconds passed in excruciatingly slow motion. As fast as Buck moved to bring the gun to his own temple, Thomas threw himself forward, desperately trying to be that fraction of a second faster. **"No!!!"** _Please, let me get there this time. **Please**..._

Just as Magnum's hand connected with Greene's arm, an explosion of light and sound shattered the serene quiet of the early morning, echoing and reverberating through the valley below. Thomas felt warm liquid spatter his face and arms. **_"NOOOO!!!!"_** The two men slammed back against the concrete wall and fell in a heap, the gun skittering away across the cement. Thomas's breath caught in his throat as he felt Greene's body go limp. His chest felt stiff, on fire. _No!! **Not again...** Please, not again..._

*******

Magnum roared through the gate and up the driveway to where T.C, Rick and Maggie stood waiting in front of the main house. "TM, _what_ is going on, that you had Maggie roust us out of bed at this..." TC shouted, his voice trailing off as he got a look at Magnum's passenger.

"I didn't ask Maggie to call, but I'm glad you're here," countered Magnum, leaping from the car. "Gimme me a hand."

"What the _hell_ happened? Is he alive?" asked Rick, yanking open the door and feeling Greene's neck for a pulse.

"He's breathing," responded Magnum tersely. TC and Rick helped Magnum pull Greene's limp body from the car and carry him toward the house. One side of his head was covered with blood; the upper part of his shirt sodden red.

"Maggie," called Thomas. Maggie stood like a statue, staring in horror at the blood-soaked man. _"Maggie!"_ he shouted again. She shuddered and looked at Magnum. "Call Doc Ibold; his number's by my phone. Tell him we need him here with his bag, ASAP. Don't let him ask any questions, just tell him to hurry. Then could you stay with Lily until Alicia gets here?" Maggie nodded numbly and ran to the guest house.

*******

"He should be in a hospital, Magnum. If nothing else he's got one hell of a concussion. What happened?" Doc Ibold and Thomas stood in the hall outside the room where Buck lay semi-conscious. 

"He hit his head, Doc. Can you just stitch him up?" _Please don't ask for explanations._

"What exactly did he hit his head _on?_" demanded an exasperated Ibold.

_So much for explanations..._ "The sharp edge of a cement wall. We had a little, ah, disagreement..." Magnum dabbed gingerly at the fresh bruise on his own cheek. No need for Ibold to know it was TC who had slugged him so their story might have some shred of credibility. 

"A disagreement... Really..." Ibold's voice dripped with sarcasm. "If he hit his head on a wall, then why didn't you just take him to Tripler, or Castle Memorial? Why drag me all the way out here at this hour?" The doctor crossed his arms in front of him and stared mercilessly at Magnum until the other man looked away. Ibold's eyes narrowed and his gazed hardened. 

"Maybe because then you'd have to explain the powder burns on his face? Hmm?" There was a long, quiet pause. "You didn't really think I was going to miss those, did you?" the doctor demanded, raising his eyebrows. Magnum stood in silence, avoiding the other man's eyes. 

"Well?" demanded Ibold. When he still received no answer, he supplied one. "Let me take a guess. From the angle of the wound, and from the looks of you," Ibold shifted his gaze to Magnum's blood-spattered shirt, "I'd say you grabbed his arm just about the time the gun went off... How am I doing so far?"

Magnum put his hands on his hips, pursed his lips, and stared at the floor.

"Uh-huh," confirmed the doctor with a nod, "thought so. Look, Magnum, I can patch up the outside of his head, but I can't do much about the _inside_." Ibold tapped an index finger against his temple. "You guys run in the fast lane too long, and eventually you crash. I've seen it happen more times than I care to think about. He needs help."

Magnum finally spoke softly, "I know, Doc. But I also know what the Marine Corps will do to him. They'll crucify him. He'll be disgraced, and all he ever tried to do was what they asked him to do."

Ibold looked quizzically at Thomas. "Taking pity on Buck Greene? That doesn't sound like you."

_No, it doesn't. But Maggie's right; I owe him._ "Come on, Doc, just patch him up, will you? We'll take care of him," Magnum pleaded. "He's still on convalescent leave. They'll never know."

Ibold sighed and squeezed his lips into a thin line. "It's against my better judgment, but I'll stitch him up and check on him tomorrow."

"Thanks, Doc. We owe you." Magnum responded quietly.

"Mmm-hmm," responded Ibold with a lopsided smile. He shook his index finger at Magnum and continued. "And one of these days, I'm gonna collect."

*******

The fact that Buck Greene was already on convalescent leave made it easy to quietly care for him at the estate for a few days. Magnum had managed to convince Admiral Hawkes that Buck was fine, and had just wanted a little time to himself. 

Doc Ibold agreed that Buck seemed to be healing adequately, and could skip any hospital treatment, but he still demanded that Buck see a psychiatrist. Quietly... Privately... Magnum told Ibold that they would make sure the visit happened, but so far Greene had balked. In fact, Buck hadn't had much to say at all. When Thomas had tried to talk to him, he had merely closed in on himself and refused to speak. Only by threatening him with a trip to the hospital had Ibold convinced him to eat.

On the second day of Greene's stay, Ibold arrived with Dr. Mitchell Chase, a psychiatrist, and issued an ultimatum; either Buck talk to the doctor, or Ibold would admit him to the hospital. Chase spent over two hours with Buck while Magnum and Ibold sat in the study, silently smoking cigars and wondering whether the last couple of days' subterfuge was about to become moot.

Magnum and Ibold leapt anxiously to their feet when they heard footsteps on the stairs. "He'll be okay," Chase informed them. "I'll be back tomorrow and for the next few days, but he's over the crisis. Just had way too much to deal with, and no one to talk it out with." 

Magnum exhaled explosively, unaware that he had been holding his breath, but only mildly surprised at the sense of relief that came over him.

*******

Admiral Hawkes, Colonel Greene, Commander Magnum, Lieutenant Colonel Connolly, Lieutenant Commander Poole, and Lieutenant Prescott had been holed up in Hawkes' office for over an hour, crafting the final version of the "official" story that would be told to the press, the public and even the Navy public affairs people; a story that would explain some of the events of the last three weeks, while keeping the rest of the tale from becoming tabloid fodder. The personnel in this room were the only people who knew the full story, and the admiral wanted to make sure it stayed that way, for Poole's sake. The official news release would explain that Commander Tanya Davis had been arrested on suspicion of espionage and treason based on the discovery of inconsistencies within classified Navy files. Hawkes had locked such a tight lid on the rest of the information that those few people (the SEALS, the hospital staff and a few others) who had pieces of the picture would never talk about them again.

"Everyone clear on the story?" asked Hawkes. 

"Yes, sir," five voices chimed in unison.

"Good. Colonel Connolly, Commander Poole, Lieutenant Prescott, you're dismissed."

_Uh-oh,_ thought Magnum as the three officers departed. _Now what?_

When the door had closed, Hawkes peered at the two men, his jaw muscles working in obvious irritation. "On your feet, gentlemen," he ordered sharply. 

Magnum and Greene exchanged an apprehensive look as they stood and came to attention. _Does he know?_ thought Magnum. _ He couldn't!_

Hawkes let them wonder what he was up to for several moments while he paced behind them. Finally, he walked around in front of them and stared at Greene for several more moments. 

"How did you get that cut on your head, Colonel?" he asked sternly. The powder burns had faded, but it was impossible to completely hide the thin line of stitching beneath Buck's hair.

"Ah," stuttered Greene. 

Magnum tried to rescue him. "He fell, sir."

"I'm sure the colonel can speak for himself, Commander! Colonel?"

"I fell sir, and hit it against the corner of a wall. Clumsy of me."

The admiral's face darkened at the poorly delivered lie. "I see. And that shiner of yours, Commander?"

"I was hit, sir."

**_"By whom?"_** The admiral's face was now a deep crimson.

"I'd rather not say, sir."

"Let me guess. Was it a _Marine_, by any chance??"

"Ah, yes, sir, as a matter of fact, it was," replied Magnum, managing to suppress a smile. _TC's__ a Marine. Glad I didn't have to lie, after all._

Admiral Hawkes was reasonably mild-mannered. It took a lot to force him lose his temper, but Greene and Magnum had managed to push him over the edge. "All right, you two! I don't give a _damn_ how you feel about each other! This high school locker room crap is going to stop right here and right now!!" Hawkes took a deep breath and lowered his voice. 

"I am neither stupid, nor blind. I'm not asking you two to get along, just co-exist! I expect the officers on my staff to behave in a professional manner, not duke it out behind a bar somewhere!" The admiral stared at Greene for a moment, then at Magnum. "Do I make myself clear?!" he bellowed. 

"Yes, sir," the two responded crisply, both weak with relief that their ruse had been successful with the admiral, if not with Ibold.

Hawkes turned toward the window for a moment to hide his amusement. As different as these two men were, and as much as they hated each other, he was almost surprised the consequences hadn't been more serious than a few stitches and a black eye. Still, this kind of behavior between two senior officers had to be dealt with, if only via a good ass-chewing. He turned back to the two.

"Commander, you're dismissed. Colonel, stay here."

Magnum hesitated. _Damn, I don't want Buck in here alone with him. No telling what he might say._ "Sir..." he began, intending to take the blame for the "fight."

Hawkes cut him off. "I said, _dismissed,_ Commander," he snapped, eyes flashing.

_Being on active duty does have its drawbacks..._ "Aye, aye, sir," Magnum responded reluctantly. He took his time closing the door as he left, hoping to hear something, but the admiral obviously planned to say nothing until he was alone with Buck.

*******

A thoroughly frustrated Steve McGarrett slapped a file down on his desk. "Case closed, Danno," he snapped. "We've been stonewalled again." 

Dan Williams scowled. He hated dealing with the feds just as much as McGarrett did. "Didn't even get to keep those two Marines, did we?"

"Nope," growled McGarrett. "Hawkes promised the case would never come to trial if we hung on to them. Evidence and witnesses have a bad habit of disappearing on us when the admiral gets involved. But he did at least assure me that they'll be court martialed when we turn them over." The detective scowled. "Hawkes sure kept us from the truth on the rest of the case, too." 

McGarrett had interviewed Greene, Magnum, Poole, and Prescott, and had received the same answers from all four. They knew absolutely nothing about Davis' activities, nothing about any pictures, nothing about a helicopter that had mysteriously exploded on Molokai. Greene had explained away his injuries by saying he'd been jumped by thugs and mugged. Prescott swore she had never been in the airport. Poole and Greene had both refused to answer questions about the undercover operation, citing national security. Admiral Hawkes had provided alibis for all of them. They had been on duty on the night in question. All of them...

McGarrett had dealt with Greene, Magnum, and Poole before, and hadn't expected any information from them. He had hoped Katherine might cut him a break, but even when he had confronted her privately, off the record, she had insisted she knew nothing. _She'll make a great spook,_ he had thought. His intuition was telling him that she was lying, but he doubted that anyone else would be able to see through her deceit. His comment to her, "Let me guess, now that I'm out of the business, I have no need to know," had been met with nothing more than an even stare. 

"We're going to have to just file this one, dammit. Maybe next time..." McGarrett snapped.

*******

"I see I'm not the only one who wants to talk to Mac," Magnum commented to Katherine Prescott as he walked up to where she sat in her car, parked across the street from Mac's apartment.

"He's not home. I thought I'd wait for him," Katherine answered. She looked up at Magnum and pursed her lips. "I figure it had to be Mac who dropped those pictures with McGarrett."

"Mmm-hmm," responded Thomas. "I figure you're right. And I'd like to know why just as much as you would."

Katherine glanced down the street. "Hey, here he comes."

They walked across the street as Mac climbed from his car. "Mac!" called Thomas.

Mac turned, surprised. "Magnum! Haven't seen you in ages! How the heck are you?"

"What are you talking about, Mac, and why are you wearing that ridiculous fake mustache?" demanded Magnum.

"What?" asked Mac. He continued irritably, "Look, Magnum, I've been gone for two weeks, on the mainland. I'm tired, and I'm jet lagged. So would you mind telling me what you're talking about??"

"Gone?" repeated Magnum. He reached out and yanked hard on Mac's mustache.

"Ow!!" howled Mac, pulling back and rubbing his sore face. "Have you lost your mind?!"

"What were you doing on the mainland, Mac?"

"Business. What's it to you?"

"Finalizing ammunition sales?" Mac's mouth dropped open. "I think you'll find your supplier is in Five-0 custody, and if I were you, I'd look for another line of work... Quickly..." Magnum continued sarcastically. 

Mac finally managed to ask, "What did you want to see me about, Magnum?"

"Well, it's no big deal. It can wait until you've had some rest. I gotta run. Catch you later." 

Magnum grabbed Katherine's elbow and steered her back toward her car. They were halfway across the street when she finally sputtered, "What's going on, sir? He was on the mainland? Then who...?" Her eyes were as big as saucers. She'd heard some stories about the real MacReynolds from Maggie, and she _believed_ in ghosts.

Magnum's head was spinning. _If Mac was on the mainland,_ he thought, _then who... Nah... Couldn't be..._

"I don't know, Katherine. And I think we're just going to leave this one alone," he commented grimly. She nodded numbly. 

"C'mon, I owe you a drink, anyway," Magnum continued with a forced smile. "I have a box of Montecristos to deliver to a certain HPD lieutenant friend of ours, then we can talk." He placed a hand on her shoulder. His eyes were kind, but sad, Katherine noticed. "I've got a few stories to tell you about your dad."

*******

_One Month Later_

"Oh ... my ... _God!!_" Higgins stood outside the main house surveying the estate. "The grounds have gone _completely_ untended while I've been in hospital! The flower beds are overrun, the shrubs need pruning. The lawn has _not_ been properly aerated. Magnum, how could you _possibly_ allow this to occur?? Have you given the gardener _no_ supervision at _all??_ And the _lads!_ Their dietary and exercise requirements have been _utterly_ ignored!"

Magnum smiled. He knew, as did Higgins, that the estate was in acceptable condition, and Zeus and Apollo were healthy, but that Higgins needed to reassert his authority as Robin's Nest's majordomo. But his grumbling also meant that Higgins was recovering from his injuries. His broken ribs, lacerated liver, and badly broken left arm had kept him hospitalized for almost a month. His arm would remain in a cast for several more weeks. At Alicia's suggestion and insistence, she had moved in to the main house to assist Higgins full time. At Higgins' insistence, Maggie had also been invited to remain at the estate while she recuperated.

Higgins' tirade was interrupted by the arrival of a cab at the gate. "Magnum, are you expecting a visitor? I will not have this estate turned in to a social club!" He angrily pressed the button to open the gate. To everyone's astonishment, Buck Greene emerged from the vehicle.

Buck looked more relaxed than Magnum had ever seen him. "I don't mean to intrude," Greene said. "I just stopped to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" asked Thomas, knitting his brow. "What are you talking about??"

Buck nodded. "Yes, goodbye," he confirmed. "I'm on my way to the airport. When the admiral kept me in his office that day a few weeks ago, it was to inform me that my final request for a waiver to remain on active duty had been denied. I've gone past 30, and they're gonna make me retire. Besides," he smiled wryly, "I think I've about worn out my welcome, don't you?"

Magnum stared at Buck with his mouth hanging open in astonishment. "But..." he stammered. _He's hit 30 years? I forgot he was that much older than me._ Much as Thomas disliked Buck, he didn't want to see him forced out of the Corps. "What about a retirement ceremony?!" he finally managed to blurt.

Greene shook his head and smiled. "Not my style. I've turned command over to Captain Jeffries, something that was quietly planned several weeks ago. I'm just gonna go ahead and depart the pattern. It's been a good run. It's time." He grimaced and tapped a finger lightly against his head. "Maybe a little past time."

Magnum nodded solemnly. "I see your point. So now what? Where are you going? What are you gonna to do?" _You're not like most people. I can't see you sitting in a rocker on your porch._

"I got a little land set aside in Tennessee. Gonna raise horses. Do some fishin'." Magnum stared, open-mouthed and speechless. Greene chuckled. "Don't look so shocked, Magnum. It's time to wind down a little. But only for a while..." An enigmatic smile crossed his face as he added, "I expect we'll see each other again."

Magnum managed to recover from his surprise. "I do have one question before you go, Buck. Why did you involve McGarrett? You always hated him."

Buck looked solemn. "We had a leak. I couldn't trust anyone. Not even the admiral." Thomas was taken aback by Buck's blunt statement, but he knew it to be true. 

"There were only two people I knew weren't involved," Buck continued, "Maggie, because she's always been a straight arrow, and you, because I knew the leak must have betrayed Michelle. I needed someone outside the Navy, just in case the admiral was on the wrong side of the fence, and I 'disappeared.' McGarrett seemed the logical choice." 

Magnum nodded in agreement. "I hear he's still pretty pissed off at you for using him like that."

Buck smiled. "He usually is."

Buck turned to Higgins and extended his hand. "Higgins? Until we meet again."

Higgins returned the handshake with a knowing look. "Indeed."

Unbeknown to the others, Maggie had come out of the house and now stood quietly in the background. Buck tensed when he noticed her, and his eyes once again took on the haunted look that Magnum had become all too familiar with. 

"Maggie," Buck stammered, "I... I didn't expect you to be here... If I could undo all of it..." At a loss for words, his voice dropped away and he stared silently at her. 

_My God, I actually feel sorry for him, _thought Maggie. "I know, Buck," she replied softly. "I'm glad we get the chance to say goodbye. Fair winds ... and following seas... Take care of yourself." She stepped forward and offered her hand. They shook solemnly, each wishing desperately that the circumstances were different, but powerless to change the past. Each knowing they had no choice but to play the hand they had been dealt. They were alive, but the cost to both had been far, far too high.

Buck glanced up at the lanai, where Lily sat playing with her dolls, then looked hard at Magnum. "Take good care of her, Tom."

Magnum nodded. "I will, Buck. Thank you." They, too, clasped hands briefly, each acknowledging his debt to the other, each accepting shared secrets.

Colonel Greene took one last look out toward the water, climbed into the cab without another word, and never looked back as the car pulled away.

*******

In the weeks since Higgins had been released from the hospital, the inhabitants of Robin's Nest had settled into a comfortable routine. They ate dinner together in the main house, after which Magnum and Lily sometimes departed for the guest house, if there was homework to be completed. On other occasions, the adults sat on the lanai and enjoyed an after dinner drink while Lily played on the lawn with the dogs.

On this particular evening, Higgins disappeared for a few moments after dinner, Maggie walked down to the beach, and Thomas wandered out to the lanai. Higgins returned with a very nice bottle of red wine. "This is for you," said Higgins, offering the bottle to the other man.

"Higgins?" asked Magnum, completely perplexed.

Higgins gestured toward the beach and spoke gently. "Magnum, certainly you cannot think that I have missed how you look at Maggie Poole when you think no one is watching."

Magnum felt a blush creep up his face. "Higgins..."

The majordomo's face became serious. "You, of all people, should realize that life is short, and not to be wasted." He offered the wine again. 

"But..." Thomas stammered. "Lily..."

Alicia had also appeared on the lanai. "Lily will be fine in the main house with me," she said. She gave Magnum a gentle push on the shoulder. "Go," she added with a smile.

Higgins and Alicia watched as Magnum walked to the beach, spoke to Maggie, and gestured toward the guest house.

Thomas and Maggie settled into comfortable chairs, and sat sipping glasses of wine. After some awkward small talk about the weather and the latest office gossip, Thomas took a deep breath. "Maggie, I want to ask you something, if that's okay... Something personal."

Maggie wondered what would make him so solemn. Was he finally going to ask her about the attack? That was something she didn't want to talk about. "Sure, Thomas," she replied quietly.

"Why did you leave?"

"Leave?" she asked, confused. _That's certainly not the question I expected!_

"Why did you take the orders to Norfolk and leave for three years?"

_Why in God's name is he asking me this now?_ Her 1983 transfer to Virginia was a subject they had never discussed, even after her return to the islands. She shrugged and tried to answer nonchalantly. "I had orders, Thomas. I had to go."

"You were offered orders to CINCPAC, and you turned them down," he countered quietly.

Her mouth fell open. "You _knew_ about that?!"

He nodded solemnly. "So, why did you leave?"

Maggie wondered if she looked as uncomfortable as she felt. "It was a good job, in Norfolk. Career enhancing." 

"Is that all?" Thomas continued in a low, even, completely unreadable voice.

_Damn it. He's not going to let this drop. Okay, maybe it's time for a little honesty._ She sighed deeply. "I guess I needed some space, Thomas. And some distance."

"Distance from what?" _Or should I say, from whom?_

_You know damned good and well from what, or you wouldn't be asking._ "From Hawaii. From Buck. He didn't think much of me, you know..." _From you..._

_I think you're wrong about Buck, but we can talk about that later._ "But you came back..."

"As soon as I could. Norfolk was a disaster. This is where I belong. I missed the islands. I missed the sunshine and the ocean. I missed the outdoors."

Thomas took a sip of wine, all the time staring at her over the rim of the glass. "Is that all?"

Maggie dodged the question. "Thomas, why are we having this conversation now? I've been back here for over two years." She took a long drink.

Thomas ignored her question and leaned forward in his chair, his face now just inches from hers. "Is that all?" he repeated softly, staring intently at her. 

There was a long pause while Maggie decided how to answer. She'd moved on from the days when she thought there might possibly be something between them. A simple 'yes' would keep this particular door firmly closed. Her heart was pounding hard enough that she could hear blood roaring in her ears. "No..." 

Thomas looked pensive as he sat back, refilled their glasses, and took another long swallow from his drink. Maggie sat frozen in place. Why had he asked the question, and what would he do with the answer?

After several long moments, Thomas continued. "Is there, ah," he paused to clear his throat as he felt his face redden. _God, I feel like a teenager asking for a date._ "Is Ron still in the picture?"

The thought of her former boyfriend made Maggie grimace. "Thomas, c'mon... He used to call me '_Magpie.'_ No," she chuckled, "Ron needed a very different type of girl."

"You put up with him longer than you should have, because you knew he had information about Lily." Maggie's face sobered as she nodded reluctantly. "Is there anyone else?"

_Where's this coming from? What's changed?_ She stared at him carefully for a moment before answering quietly. "No, I'm not seeing anyone right now." She paused, swallowed hard. _Okay, he brought up the subject, so..._ "Are you?"

"No," he replied quietly.

"What about Lee?"

"Lee's a wonderful woman, but we were never really meant for each other. Once we broke it off for a while, we both saw that." 

Thomas almost laughed as he considered this strange teenage dance they were doing. They knew each other so well, and yet were both so utterly awkward when it came to real feelings.

Magnum took Maggie's glass from her hand and set it down on the table beside his own. He stood, took her hands, and gently pulled her to her feet. She kept her gaze lowered, not daring to look up at him, as unsure as she was about her own feelings. Thomas lifted her chin and studied her face. The cuts and bruises had healed. The plastic surgeon had done a good job, but there were still scars. Thomas ran his finger over the scar above her eye, silently acknowledging its presence. He thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

She watched him examine her face. Despite the surgeon's work, she knew would never look quite the same as she had before. She had accepted that. She was changed. The exterior wounds had healed; the interior wounds would take longer. No one could change that. _What is he thinking? _she wondered. _Whether he wants to take on 'damaged goods'?_

Finally, after several long moments, his eyes met hers. There was a hitch in his voice when he spoke. "Maggie, I love you. I have no idea why it took me so long to open my eyes."

_Dear God, can this be happening?_ With tears in her eyes, she answered, "I love you too, Thomas. I always have."

His first kiss was soft, gentle, tentative, his lips just brushing hers. But as his arms closed around her and his mouth descended on hers, it happened... Momentarily... Unintentionally... Maggie flinched... She hadn't meant to, hadn't wanted to, but the memories were still too raw, too powerful... 

Thomas didn't miss the quick movement. "Damn. I'm sorry, Maggie." Thomas pulled back from her and turned away. _Shit! What was I thinking?_ It was too soon. He'd be taking advantage, and he could never do that to her; she had saved him from himself too many times. It didn't matter that he wanted to erase the hurt, and replace the horror with good, loving memories. If that ever happened, now was too soon. _I lost Michelle. I lost Diane. I'm not going to lose Maggie, not to my own damned stupidity._

He almost jumped when she placed her hand lightly on his back. "Thomas? It's okay... I'm sorry." Maggie was shaking.

He turned. "You have _nothing_ to be sorry _for_," he exclaimed, at once fiercely protective of her and angry at both himself _and_ Buck. He took a deep, calming breath and put an arm around her shoulders. "C'mon," he said kindly, "I'll walk you back to the main house."

She placed her hand on his chest and gently stopped him. "It would be a real shame to waste that wonderful bottle of wine," she said simply. _The cost has already been too high. I'm not going to lose you, too._

Thomas cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. "It would?" he asked, a tiny, enigmatic smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She nodded slowly, her small, determined smile widening just a fraction. "Thomas, let's not let the past steal the future," she said quietly. But he couldn't help noticing that her eyes nonetheless held a deep sadness; one that he wanted so very badly to wipe away. 

Thomas took her face in his hands and swept his thumbs over her cheeks, as though wiping away tears. He saw trust in her eyes, along with the sadness. It frightened him; he had let too many people down to be so trusted. "Maggie..." he murmured. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, kissed her nose, and finally, tentatively, his lips barely touched hers... She smiled up at him. Very gently and very carefully, he wrapped his arms around her. This time, there was no flinch, no tension. She returned his hug, and their lips met in a long, deep kiss. 

_Is that my heart thudding, or hers?_ he wondered.

"What about the wine?" he whispered.

"I'm sure it will keep until later," she whispered back, meeting his lips with hers. 

Thomas reached down, effortlessly lifted Maggie off the floor, and cradled her in his arms as he carried her to the bedroom.

*******

Thomas Magnum sat facing east on the pre-dawn beach, his arms wrapped around his knees, his eyes studying the far-distant horizon, his face pensive. So much had transpired in these last several weeks; it was hard to take it all in. _It was the best of times, it was the worst of times._ Strange how some things stayed with you; he'd never even particularly liked Dickens, but so many things in his life represented the best and worst on a never-ending collision course.

The sun crept over the horizon, blazing the sky with a spectacular display of bright orange.

"Mac would have loved this sunrise; it's beautiful."

Thomas' face creased into a soft, gentle smile. "You're right, he _would_ have loved it," he replied, wrapping an arm around his companion's shoulders and pulling her close to his side. She laid her cheek against his chest as he gently kissed the top of her head. _This time it's going to work,_ he thought, as he considered the events of the night. 

Thomas awakened long before dawn and lay watching Maggie as she continued to sleep. He had never imagined he would find Maggie Poole in his bed, but he had no regrets. In fact, he hadn't felt like this since the last time he had been with Michelle. It had been perfect; a powerful, soothing salve for the deep wounds both of them had suffered. Long into the night, they finally slept, curled closely around one another.

Maggie awakened and looked confused momentarily, until her eyes met Thomas's. "Are you okay," he asked gently.

"I'm _fine_," she answered with a warm smile. 

For a long, long moment, they stared into each other's eyes. Then they kissed, gently at first, and then hungrily, and then they wrapped themselves around one another and time meant nothing until much later, when the gray light of pre-dawn intruded upon the bedroom. 

"C'mon, Thomas, let's go watch sunrise," Maggie insisted, pulling him from the bed.

_This time we're going to win,_ thought Thomas. _Finally._

_I never dared imagine this day would arrive,_ thought Maggie as she pressed tight against Thomas's side and he tightened his grip around her shoulders. _This time, it's going to work._

"'Bout time you two realized you belong together..."

Both Thomas and Maggie whipped their heads around to see who had invaded their privacy. The beach was empty. "Did you hear what I heard?" asked Maggie shakily. Thomas nodded slowly. "That sounded like..." Thomas nodded again. "But _how_?" she whispered, eyes wide. Mac's _dead!_"

"I don't know," answered Magnum solemnly. "This beach is a special place. I can't explain it, so I just accept it. But I do know one thing."

"What's that?" she asked, searching his face.

Thomas grinned and hugged her tight. "He's right."

Maggie nodded and returned his smile. "Yes, I think he is."

As they turned back toward the water to drink in the morning sunshine, Thomas thought he caught movement and a flash of a loud Hawaiian shirt out of the corner of his eye, but he never turned to look at the shorter, dark-haired man wearing a wide smile on his round face walking slowly up the beach.

**PAU******

© J.J. Keegan 2003


End file.
